


your head has no right to say no

by xensilverquill



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series), Helluva Boss (Web Series)
Genre: Aftercare, Canon Divergent, Deal with a Devil, Like Tim Curry levels of horny, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Power Bottom!Stolas, Rough Sex, Service Top!Blitzo, Sorta? Stolas' anatomy is similar to a typical bird, Stolas is dripping with Horny Energy, Sugar Daddy, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21713392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xensilverquill/pseuds/xensilverquill
Summary: “How very refreshingly compliant of you, Blitzy,” the prince hummed, sounding quite pleased with himself, “but I do not think you quite understand the position you have put yourself in.”Blitzo comes to ask for a favor, and Stolas calls in his debts.
Relationships: Blitzo/Stolas (Helluva Boss), Millie/Moxxie (Helluva Boss)
Comments: 609
Kudos: 1539





	1. baby, don't be afraid (I'ma hurt you real good, baby)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperation leads Blitzo to Stolas' doorstep once again.

Blitzo clawed another jagged line into the wall of the foyer. A few dozen more decorated the crown-patterned wallpaper within an arm’s reach, each a minute he had been forced to wait. Arms crossing and boot tapping petulantly, he flopped back against the plush chaise. 

What in Pandemonium’s syphilitic taint was taking him so long?!

The imp started a bit at the clicking sound of talons on tile. He relaxed only marginally to see it was not the prince himself but his black-feathered butler.

“Once again, sir,” came the butler’s tired reprimand as he stared at him down at his beak, “I must ask that you please not deface the walls. “

“Well tough shit!” he shrilled. “Can’t go five minutes at work without that asshole making a booty call, but the second _I’ve_ got some legitimate business with him he’s suddenly occupied!”

“Then it might please you to know that His Highness will see you presently.” The butler turned soundlessly on his heel and head back the way he had come without looking back. “If you will follow me, please.”

“Well golly-fucking-gee, it’s about time!”

It was a considerable hike from the foyer to Stolas’ personal chambers. He glared distastefully at every family portrait and tacky ornament they passed. One of the richest nobles in all the Nine Circles and somehow he still couldn’t afford to buy a good taste in interior decorating. 

Christ on a stick, but the entire mansion was the gaudiest and kitschiest thing. It was just mauve and grey and silver _everywhere_. Like an eggplant and a plum and had teamed up to brutally murder a whole extended family of granadilla and then rolled around and fucked in the carnage afterward.

Up three flights of stairs, down two hallways, and under one glass-bottom swimming pool later (okay seriously who actually _needed_ something like that?), and they finally arrived. The butler walked ahead of him into the receiving room to announce him.

“Your Highness,” he announced, bending at the waist, “ I have brought Master Blitzo as you requested.”

The prince was currently sprawled on the couch. His crown-insigniaed top hat lay slightly tilted forward, and his robes pillowed beneath him. One arm thrown over the back, his stupidly long legs hanging off one end. A gilded cigarette holder in one hand from which he took a long drag before deigning to look up and acknowledge them. Everything inch the entitled and lazy asshole Blitzo remembered. 

“Ah, so you have. Send him in.” Smoke billowed from the corners of his mouth, not even bothering to get up. He snapped a finger dismissively at his corvid-like servant.

“That will be all, Camio. Close the door on your way out.” Closing his eyes, he sunk further into the cushions. “Oh, and be a dear and screen my calls until tomorrow. I do not wish for my business with our dear guest to be interrupted for anything.” 

“As you wish, sir,” Camio replied, bowing once more and backing out of the room. 

The door shut with a note of finality that had Blitzo’s stomach curdling. He wondered if it was too late to run screaming and arms flailing into the night. Or rather the afternoon.

“Well no need to be a stranger,” Stolas said when they were alone. “Have a seat. And to what do I owe the pleasure of your delicious little haunches darkening my doorstep again?”

One glance at that stupid smarmy son-of-bitch’s face had Blitzo instantly regretting the idea of coming here. One word out of said bitch’s beak nearly had him turning the fuck around right then and there. 

Still, the imp just managed to keep from freaking the fuck out. He perched himself on the edge of the armchair next to the couch. All nice and calm and collected and one hair trigger from throwing himself out the fourth-story bay window across from them.

 _Just keep reminding yourself why you’re here, Blitz,_ he told himself as he choked down a gagging noise. _You’re taking one for the team._

(Probably more than one if the greedy asshole making elevator eyes at him had his way.)

“Not that I am complaining,” Stolas continued. “Not a bit. But even so...” 

He sat up in one smooth motion and pinned the other beneath his gaze. A puff of tobacco smoke right in the imp’s face brought stinging tears to his eyes as the prince leaned closer. Blitzo could not quite stifle a shiver when those claws grasped his chin and forced him to look up.

Those four red eyes bore into his own, searching and appraising. Like the prince couldn’t decide whether he wanted to fuck him or eat him. Maybe both, considering the kinky fucker’s apetite. 

“It is the rare red letter day when _you_ are the one coming to call. Of your own accord, no less.” Stolas released him only to ghost the back of his hand over the imp’s cheek. “Usually I have to twist that receptionist’s arm to even get you to take my calls.”

“C’mon, easy with the touchy-feely already,” Blitzo groused, scooting back a little further into the chair. Only two minutes in and the leggy bastard was already copping a feel! “I did actually come here to talk business.” 

“All work and no play with you, as ever,” Stolas pouted but leaned back against the couch. “What a pity.” 

He guttered the cigarette with a tad too much force into the silver ashtray on the table, denting it in the process. A flick of his wrist and the holder shot straight like a dart into the portrait of some poor relative. He rested his chin on his fist as he continued to stare at the imp.

“So, what ‘business’ do you have with me today, my dear?”

Oh, pits, here it was. Time to (literally) royally screw himself over. Gathering up what shreds of professionalism he had left, he brought his claws together in his lap and looked up to meet the prince’s gaze.

“So,” he began on a long exhale, “just going to come out and say it. Work has been… _slow_ lately. That and -- through no fault of my own, let’s be clear -- some bad financial luck with marketing has put us more in the red than the black this quarter.”

“Yes, I recall hearing something like that through the vine. Your luck of late has been -- oh, how did Vox put it? -- downright ‘shitty.’”

For a moment, Blitzo briefly considered punching the smirk creeping up his beak right off.

“Well, I wouldn’t say-- Okay, fine, it’s been really fucking shitty.” He huffed and dragged his palms down his face in a futile attempt to stave off his oncoming migraine. 

“We’re already three months past due on the rent, my employees’ salaries are practically non-existent at this point, and there’s no signs of business picking up anytime soon. You’re one of our only consistent patrons.” Not to mention their most generous client and one of the only reasons they had not gone under already. “All this to say...”

 _All right, don’t pussy out now,_ he told himself by way of a peptalk. _Just get it out there._

“We-- _I_ need a loan. Just enough to see us through to the end of the fiscal year.”

Silence spread between them for a moment, and his heart was pounding in his ears. Worst case scenario, the asshole would not go for it and Blitzo would lose his company and his employees and the only good thing he had going in this literal hellhole and by extension his only reason not to off himself oh fucking hell what was he even doing here--

“Oh, is that all?” Stolas’ voice cut through his spiraling panic. “Well, why you didn’t you say so in the first place, darling? I would be more than happy to help you out of this little predicament…”

Blitzo dared to look up with hope all bright and schmaltzy in his eyes.

“... For a price.”

Only for the asshole to take a big steaming shit all over it.

“Yeah, I figured,” he sighed resignedly. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and glanced pointedly down. “So, go ahead: tell me what kind of kinky fuckery I’m going to have to do get you to give me that loan.”

“How very refreshingly compliant of you, Blitzy,” the prince hummed, sounding quite pleased with himself, “but I do not think you quite understand the position you have put yourself in.”

Stolas stood up from the couch and stared imperiously down at him. In an instant those talons were digging into the arms of the chair on either side of Blitzo. The imp squeaked and pressed himself to the back of the chair. Those eyes were glowing like coals now as the prince leaned forward until their faces were only inches apart.

“I never quite forgave you for leaving me all cold and alone that morning, you know,” he cooed, voice like a knife wrapped in silk and ready to shank him up the rectum. “Still, I humored you and let you keep that grimoire of mine. And even when you repeatedly spurned my affections and invitations, I still supported your business and came to you time and again as a client.”

Blitzo swallowed hard, and after a moment he could not even do that as Stolas brought a hand up to wrap around his throat. Not tight enough to choke him, but heavy enough to keep the imp pinned right where he was. He squeezed his eyes shut even as the prince’s thumb stroked circles under his jaw.

“And after all that you have the utter temerity to come begging for my assistance again, ha!”

Oh, fuckity fucking fuck fuck _fuck_ , he was going to die!

He went utterly still as he felt the hard curve of Stolas’ beak nuzzling between his horns and heard a little rumbling sound from prince. Was the bastard actually _purring_?

“Lucky for you, I happen to find that little impudent streak of yours absolutely endearing.” He trilled in amusement at the shock on Blitzo’s face. “Oh, come now, do not look so surprised. Surely you have realized by now how much I adore you, my dear Blitzy~”

“Oh yeah, I’m just oozing luck here,” the imp replied, voice cracking just a bit as he teetered on the edge between relief and horror. “So does that mean you _aren’t_ going to make me fuck my way to repaying you?”

“Oh no, I intend to work you until you can’t walk for a week afterwards. And that is to say nothing of my plans beyond tonight.” Stolas pulled back slightly, eyes narrowing shrewdly. “The deal is this, darling: I will give you the loan, and you will become mine in return, body and soul. I tell you to jump, you ask me how high and all that. I tell you to fuck me, you ask me which hole and how hard.

“And I am nothing if not a generous patron. Keep your end of the bargain, and I will even keep that start-up of yours solvent until the Rapture.” He extended a hand towards the imp. “Does that sound agreeable?”

No, it sounded like a shitty ass deal to the imp. All he really wanted was to get the hell out of Dodge and never set foot anywhere near this shitlord or do any business with him again. But his options were slim, and they would get even slimmer if Stolas pulled out of business with them altogether. He had to do this -- for Luna, for Millie, and even for Moxxie. Hell, even just for himself.

Setting what little self-respect and dignity he had on fire, his shoulders slumped and he took the offered hand.

“Fine. You’ve got a deal. Now what-- Ah!”

In an instant Stolas yoinked him out of the chair and pressed the imp against his front. The prince held his hand in an iron grip, and his free hand pressed into the small of Blitzo’s back until they were pressed chest-to-chest (and crotch-to-crotch, as the imp unfortunately did not fail to notice). 

“I hoped you might see things my way,” Stolas cooed against his neck as he leaned down to nip at his throat. “Be good to me, and I will be good to you. Because for all intents and purposes, Blitzy: I own your ass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Tim Curry-sounding owl demon stole my heart and ran with it. And so here we have this fic. If you want to see more, click that kudos button and tell me what you think!


	2. you had me hooked again (from the minute you sat down)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of the little arrangement between Stolas and Blitzo is off with a bang!

“Ow!”

The second they were alone in the dark bedroom, Stolas was quick to kick the door behind him. A whole 0.2 seconds passed before the imp was being shoved bodily against the nearest wall. Hard enough to knock the wind out of him. (And he was pretty sure there would be holes in the wallpaper the shape of his horns and back-spikes afterwards.)

The prince was giving him no quarter, either. He felt a tug at his shirt collar and that beak nipping at him once again. Blitzo brought his hands up to push against the other’s chest. Hell’s bells, couldn’t the asshole give him a minute?!

“Fuck!” he wheezed as he struggled to catch is breath again. “Look, listen -- I know you’ve got intentions to fuck me boneless or whatever. But I’d still kinda prefer _not_ to end up in the I.C.U. afterwards if it’s all the same to you!”

“Oh, no need to fear.” A sudden and hard tweak of his cheek had him yelping again. The hungry look Stolas gave him as he pulled back did nothing to soothe his nerves either. “I would not dream of harming this perfect body of yours. Not permanently, anyway.”

Those claws stroked up his shoulders and up to his chest. They rested a moment on the red skull pin resting at his collar bone. It did not take them very long to wander south, though, spearing through the fabric of his coat and ripping it unceremoniously open. Buttons went flying everywhere, landing with a clatter on the floor.

“Hey, hey, easy on the threads!”

“I am not a gentle lover, as you well know,” the prince continued, soundly ignoring him, “but I treat all things in my possession with care.” 

His claws raked down the remnants of the imp’s dress shirt, baring his chest to the prince’s inspection. Bending his neck, he pressed his face squarely between Blitzo’s pectorals. Ever so slowly he ran the curve of his beak in a line to his collarbone, up his throat and under his jaw. He held the imp’s head in place between two firm hands and simply stared at him for a long moment, their mouths were mere inches apart.

“You are of no use to me if you are broken, after all.”

“Could’ve fooled me-- Mmph!”

A bit of pressure at the base of the imp’s skull had their lips pressing together in an instant. Blitzo huffed. He could still taste the tobacco smoke on the prince’s weird ass beak-mouth! 

“So get the idea that I mean to brutalize you out of that pretty little horned head,” Stolas ordered in a tone that brooked no argument. “You will find that, for every ounce of pain, I will give you thrice that in pleasure.”

Under different circumstances (and with literally any other bastard in this hellscape), Blitzo might have actually found comfort and reassurance in those words. 

Those hands skirted down his shoulders again, pushing the tattered remnants of his coat and shirt to fall in a pile at his feet. The pendant fell from where it usually lay about his throat to roll away and clatter to a stop with the buttons somewhere on the floor. Grumbling under his breath, he caught Stolas’ wrists before he could go groping him again.

“I know I’m basically a glorified sextoy here, but I can undress myself thank you very much.”

“Easy, Blitzy.” In spite of keep those roaming hands still, the narrowing of the prince’s eyes made Blitzo feel like he was the one who was trapped. “I do not mind a bit of sass here and there, but remember who is holding the leash in this arrangement. You might end up choking yourself otherwise. Am I clear?”

“Uh, yeah, duly noted,” the imp murmured, letting him go.

“But as I have no wish to spoil the night with a petty lovers quarrel,” Stolas sighed, stepping away and towards the canopy bed, “I will grant you that much.”

Blitzo pointedly neglected to reply to him as he turned to face the wall. Taking a deep breath, he took a moment to simply breathe and gather his composure. He was most certainly not stalling for time as he slowly took off his boots and then his pants. Though he was apparently not fast enough for everyone’s taste as the bastard was hooting at him before he had shrugged his pants off his hips.

“Come now, we might have all night but I _do_ wish to make the most of it. You and I have some lost time to make up for and all that.”

The imp’s eye twitched. Arrangement or not, he was going to tear that pushy asshole a new one! Blitzo whipped around, a scathing retort on his lips… Only for it to shrivel and die like a hard-on under a cold shower.

Stolas sat leaning back and buck-fucking naked on the bed. One long leg was crossed over the other and bobbing slight up and down, his tophat and clothes in a pile underneath. His white strignine face stood in stark contrast against his coal-gray feathers. Tail feathers spread out beneath him and his chest generously puffed out. And those sultry bedroom eyes that fucked all other bedroom eyes and their mothers and got thanked for the opportunity. 

Shit. He had forgotten the bastard was kinda hot beneath the stupid royal get-up.

“Hm?” Blitzo was not fooled for a minute by the innocent hum that came out of that smirking mouth. “See something you like?”

“F-Fuck no!”

“No?” Stolas’ gaze traveled shrewdly downward. “I think your little friend down there has a different story to tell.”

The imp’s face flushed an even darker crimson. He did not have to look down to know he was already sporting the biggest fucking boner. There may as well have been a laugh track and cartoony _boing!_ noises in the background the blood rushed down there so fast. Silently cursing to himself, he glanced to the side and had his tail up between his legs in an instant.

Stolas chuckled darkly. “Now come here and let me take care of you, big boy~”

He shuffled forward (because needless to say it was more than a little hard to walk just that moment). The prince meanwhile rolled onto his belly, cheek propped up against a fist and his legs swinging idly behind him. Now that weird-ass mouth was perfectly level with his crotch, he noted sullenly. Even more upsetting was how much of a turn-on that suddenly was.

As soon as he was within reach, Stolas pushed his tail aside and took him in hand. Literally. The prince hummed as he idly stroked him up and down. Oh, fuck, with the feathers on his palm it was so stupid soft. His thumb swept in circles over the flared head before moving lower. He lingered just a little too long over every bump and ridge, like the fucker was blind and he was trying to get to know his dick by touch.

“Mmm, as big and impressive as I remember,” Stolas purred, close enough that breath of his words ghosted over Blitzo.

He was just starting to warm up to the idea, closing his eyes and stifling a moan, when he felt a wet tug. 

“No no no no no,” Blitzo said, voice cracking and hooves clacking on the tile as he backed out of reach. “No peckers on the pecker. You about bit it off last time!”

And incidentally that was the same night the bastard earned the name of ‘Creepy Mouth’ in his contacts.

“Only because you were a rude little man and tried to throat fuck me before I was ready,” the prince countered, raising an eyebrow at him. “And I recall making it up to you in spades afterwards.”

That… Okay, he was technically right on that one. But as the old saying went: once bitten, twice never let an owl give you a blowjob. Stolas must have read as much in his expression because he actually took the less assholish route for once and backed off.

“How about this then…” The prince turned onto his side. He folded one arm to prop his head upon and raised one ridiculously long leg. With his spare hand he reached down between his thighs, spreading his feathers out of the way until the soft pink folds underneath. 

The imp did not even bother to choke down his whimper at the sight. He was already wet and dripping, the horny bastard. And fuck if it did not look like it would feel amazing around his dick.

“We just skip to the part where you fuck me through the mattress,” Stolas purred. Laying his head back, he moaned as he circled a digit around his folds. And oh boy he was loud, like he was auditioning for the part of a one-man Foley artist down at Porn Studios. 

“For fuck’s sake, can you _ever_ shut up?” Blitzo ground out even as he hauled himself onto the bed.

“Is that a question or an order, darling?” the prince replied cheekily. His thighs parted easily and willingly as the imp shoved himself between them. 

“It was rhetorical, you leggy bastard,” he growled as he fumbled a bit to line himself up. Hook that leg over shoulder, push the other one out of the way, now reach down and-- Ah-ha, there!

“Mouthy, aren’t we? I could think of some far better uses for-- Ah-ah! Oh _yes_!”

Oh, fucking stars, that felt so good! The other was hot and wet around him, those walls squeezing around him and keeping him there. Blitzo screwed his eyes shut, trying to dredge up enough coherent thought to screw this bastard senseless.

Stolas was practically wailing as the imp impaled him in one thrust. His claws speared holes through the duvet beneath them, downy feathers flying both from himself and the mattress. His spine arched off the bed as his eyes brightened.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” he asked only a little breathlessly. “Fuck me like you mean it!”

For the first time that evening, Blitzo had absolutely no personal reservations about meeting the prince’s demands. 

He braced himself by splaying a still-gloved hand on the other’s belly and wrapping an arm around the leg on his shoulder. Then he snapped his hips back, stopping just short of pulling all the way out before thrusting back in again. And again and again and again and holy shit why had he ever thought this was a bad idea?

“Oh, Blitzy, talk dirty to Daddy!”

… Right, that was why.

“What’d I say about keeping that asshole you call a mouth shut?” he replied hoarsely even as he kept fucking the prince. 

“Mm, yes, just like that!” His talons raked down his back at the prince attempted to pull him closer. Blitzo hissed as he felt them dig deep enough to draw blood. 

Strike that. This was the worst idea ever.

“You get off on pushing me around and treating me like a slut you picked up on a street corner in Pentagram City,” he growled, bearing down harder with his claws. Oh fuck, he was so close… “So how’s it feel to get pounded like one yourself, huh?”

“Oh, you’re a much better lay than-- Ah! Oh, right there! --than any common whore, Blitzy!” Stolas’ eyes flared again, tongue lolling slightly to the side of his back. “If you weren’t, I’d have just eaten you alive after our first night and -- Ooooh, please~ -- made a doorstop out of your skull!”

If he was not dick-deep in the bastard right now, Blitzo might have had the good sense to be put off by that. And the hands suddenly grabbing at his horns like a set of handlebars drove all thought out of his skull entirely. He shuddered in ecstasy at the hard grip there. Fuck, that felt good!

Stolas began bucking his hips in earnest. So hard and so violently that the imp would have been thrown off if the grip on his horns was any less firm. Blitzo was only just able to meet him with hard thrusts of his own, and each had them both screaming themselves hoarse. Pretty soon he could hear nothing but the muffled slap of skin-against-feathers and the prince’s keening in his ears. 

A few minutes after getting fucked to within an inch of his life later, Blitzo was still gasping like a chain smoker after a marathon. His cheek was planted squarely on the fluffy patch of feathers that was Stolas’ tits. He was still inside him, and the prince’s thighs were a sticky mess, needless to say. For a bastard that was at least eighty percent leg, he was surprisingly comfortable to collapse on after a good fuck.

Stolas, for his part, did not seem like he had broken a sweat. He chirred quietly beneath the imp. Both of his legs were locked around Blitzo’s ass to keep him in place, and his claws traced idly around the heart-shaped patch between his horns.

“How odd,” he remarked quietly.

“Whazzit?” the imp murmured, turning his head that his chin rested on the prince’s chest.

“Oh nothing. Just realizing that I have seen every inch of you naked except for your hands.” He took hold of one of Blitzo’s wrist, thumb stroking over the leather of his palm. “Any particular reason you insist on keeping these covered up?”

The imp grunted, his buzz vanishing in an instant. He really did not want to get into that shit tonight on top of everything else.

“Just… please,” he muttered resignedly, glancing down and pulling his hand away again. The tip of his tail twitched pensively. “Leave it.”

“... As you wish," was all Stolas said after giving him a long and considering look. "Besides...”

Blitzo shrieked as he was flipped over and pressed into the bed, Stolas straddling him with his claws planted on either side of his head. “We have much more pressing matters to attend tonight, you and I. Hope you are ready for another round.”

“Aw, fuck me!”

“That is the idea, darling~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW more of you guys took to this fic than I thought! Thank you so much for the wonderful feedback and the inspiration, so here's the next chapter a little earlier than I intended. Hope you enjoyed! c:


	3. you can be a sweet dream (or a beautiful nightmare)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning brings bad dreams and tender moments.

_“Oh God! Where Tilla?!”_

_“What the hell-- I thought you had her!”_

_“Shit! We gotta go back for her!”_

_“There’s no time! The whole fucking Host is about to be on top of us! We’ve gotta go!”_

_“No, she’d never give up on us! She’d go back and--”_

_“And she’d tell you to turn your ass around and run! Now’s no time to try and be a hero, Blitz!”_

* * *

Blitzo woke up in a cold sweat. His heart beat a million miles a minute in his ears. His claws sank into the silken sheets beneath him as his eyes darted around the unfamiliar room. This was for sure not his apartment, where--

A light trilling to his right had him whipping his head around again. It took him longer than it should have to recognize the ghost-white face snoring softly in slumber next to him. One arm was thrown loosely around Blitzo’s middle, and long legs were tangled in a weird avian approximation of a pretzel around him. 

Ah, now he remembered: he was the prince’s personal bitch as of last night. (And apparently his fucktoy teddy bear just this moment.) 

The imp groaned tiredly and slumped back into the mattress, and every inch of him ached. Fucking night terrors again. 

The morning was not turning out to be much more welcoming. For one, where his horns had been yanked last night like he was a bull at a rodeo about to be castrated, he now had a burgeoning headache. His hips felt like they had busted a move from Hell to Heaven and then conga-lined straight back to Hell. That was to say nothing about the talon-shaped scrapes down his back and ass. And were it not for the fact he could still see it between his legs, he would have been easily convinced that his dick fell right off.

Stolas looked none the worse for wear, the lucky bastard. The only signs that he had been part of the wild night were a few feathers on the duvet and a bit of dried blood on his claws (which belonged to Blitzo and not himself, of course). No doubt he would wake up like the happy twittery birdfuck that he was and want to go at it again.

Which meant that Blitzo needed to get up _tout suite_ if he wanted to get cleaned up before the prince woke and crawled all over him like a bitch in heat. Carefully he reached for the nearest pillow in arm’s reach. Then it was a tense little game of wiggling out of the death-trap that was his bed partner’s embrace and putting said pillow in his place. 

He huffed a relieved sigh when he finally got free. By the dim morning light that filtered beneath the heavy curtains, he made his way to the bathroom. His spine sounded and felt like a twisted up water bottle as he stretched. Blitzo kicked the door shut behind him with a grumble and flicked on the light.

The bathroom was just as large and badly decorated as the rest of the manor, but he supposed he could thank the dark walls and and decor for not aggravating his headache. After a quick piss he made a beeline for the shower stall. As tempting as it was to soak his soreness away, he was pretty sure he would end up drowning in that mini swimming pool Stolas insisted on calling a tub.

He set the water to just this side of scalding before placing himself under the stream. Blitzo hissed under his breath, both at the heat and the way it stung the deeper wounds on his back. He blanched a bit to see streaks of red and brown circling the drain. Shit. 

Having some owl pussy (Was that right? What were you even supposed to call a bird cunt?) on one’s dick could easily make a body forget the pain of claws digging in like so many needles. But he had not expected to be scratched up enough to draw _that_ much blood.

“So much for not wrecking your own shit,” he muttered. 

Closing his eyes, his braced his hands against the wall opposite him and let his head fall forward. He breathed in through his mouth and out his nose over and over as the hot stream hit where his head ached most. Screw getting cleaned up, maybe he would just stay here all day. And if Stolas had a problem with it, the prince could just go and eat his--

“Ah, there you are, darling. I was wondering where you gotten off to.”

Blitzo stiffened, and the water running down his back felt very cold all of a sudden. Well, speak of the leggy devil. Slowly he turned his head and shot a very tired fuck-off stare as the still-naked prince slid the door of the cabin open. Stolas only answered with a smirk, apparently liking whatever he saw of Blitzo from the threshold.

“You got something personal against a guy attending to some personal grooming?” the imp replied, all wet and surly. “You’ll understand if I don’t care for smelling like the inside of a brothel the morning after payday. And it’s not like I left you ‘cold and alone’ again or whatever.”

“Well, aren’t we prickly this morning?” Stolas laughed as he stepped into the shower proper. 

In an instant he was literally on the imp’s ass, which had said imp yelping and immediately spinning around. Blitzo’s tail immediately curled up between his legs, and he pressed himself into the wall to put as much space between the two of them as possible. He cast another glare at Stolas over his shoulder.

“Is it too much to ask for _five minutes_ of privacy?” he grumbled. “I fucked you ten ways to Sunday last night. Ain’t you satisfied with that for now?”

“I am never sated by anything, darling. Not by money, not by power, not even by a night with your sweet body.” 

The prince’s feathers quickly became slick and damp in the gathering steam. Even now, standing all tall and imposing as he was -- _especially_ because of how tall and imposing he was -- Blitzo had to admit he made for a sinfully handsome figure.

“Truth be told, however, you are the first thing in quite some time that has held my attention,” he sighed, casting his gaze down the imp’s body again. “Which I suppose is part of why I cannot seem to get enough of you.”

“Lucky me,” Blitzo sighed with a roll of his eyes.

He tensed again when he saw those hand land on his shoulders. Glancing to the side, he huffed in resignation. Apparently the bastard lacked even the good grace to let him finish his bath before feeling him up again.

Which was why he was surprised when, rather than slipping down lower to molest him, those hands turned him to face the tiled wall of the shower. Stranger still was the sensation of those claws barely grazing his red skin as they moved up his back. Skirting just around his wounds, as if the prince were examining him. 

If he could see Stolas’ face, he was sure he would see the prince smirking at his handiwork. He probably saw the wounds as another kind of collar on him, another way of advertising to the world that Blitzo’s ass was his. He was certainly happy enough to lord that fact over the imp every chance he got.

Behind him he felt Stolas shifting. A moment later he heard the clinking of glass bottles of obscenely expensive personal grooming products from the built-in shelf slightly above his head. Then the rustle of a cloth as it was pulled off the rack off to the side.

“Hey, what are you--? Ow!”

“Easy, love,” the prince scolded in a matter-of-fact sort of tone, “this is going to get a bit worse before it gets better.”

Blitzo hissed through his teeth as he felt the wet cloth run over one of the deeper scratched between his shoulders. He was about to give the bastard what-for about putting a literal thumb in his wounds when the stinging sensation immediately gave way to soothing warmth. The tension he had not realized he had been holding slowly eased away.

Slowly Stolas worked his way down his back, attending to each wound in turn. He even wound his cloth around the base of the spikes running down his back. Blitzo shoulders slumped and his head leaned against the wall as the aching and stinging faded. 

God _damn_ that felt amazing. He turned into a boneless, impy pile of goo headfirst until the prince had to support him with an arm around his middle. Blitzo was currently so blissed out that he did not even have the wherewithal to object.

After cleaning his back -- because he was cleaning him, Blitzo realized -- Stolas turned him around and worked down his front. The imp was half-convinced this was where the charade would end and the prince would get right back to fucking him. But he was only left in confusion again when the touches even between his legs were more of a weird clinical tenderness than a horny feel-up.

The imp did not quite have the nerve to break the spell and meet the prince’s gaze. He obediently, almost gladly lift his head up to let Stolas at his neck. He sighed as that beak nuzzled over the hollow of his throat, even moreso when that tongue slipped out to lave over a bite the prince had left there the night before. 

When Blitzo reached up to loosely lay a hand on the back of Stolas’ head, that earned him a pleased trilling from the other. More nuzzling and kisses around his neck, feathered palms stroking up his horns. 

He was reminded of those more-than-a-few times he had followed Moxxie and Millie after work. Watching the two of them get all mushy and lovey-dovey and shit. At the time it had about bored Blitzo to death what with the kisses and the nose-nuzzles and the copious amount of cuddling. 

To be on the receiving at the end of it, though… Well, even Blitzo had to admit it was nice. Really nice. Really, _really_ fucking nice.

“Much as I love your fiery spirit,” Stolas purred, breaking the silence, “it is a treat indeed to see you so pliant in my hands.” He tilted the imp’s head up. “I told you I would be good to you. Do you believe me now?”

“Your mouth,” Blitzo drowsily, glaring up at the prince with an expression that was more pout that rebuke. “Keeps making words. Don’t like that.”

“Never can admit when I do something right, can you?” the prince laughed. Reaching behind Blitzo, he turned the faucet until the shower was off and they were both left dripping in the cabin. He reached for a large mauve towel and promptly dried Blitzo off. 

“Well, Blitzy…” He leaned down to speak softly in the imp’s ear. “You had better get going. I imagine your lackeys will be wondering where you have gotten off to.”

“What? No fucky before breakfast? And they’re not my ‘lackeys,’ you classist bastard, they’re my fam-- Wait. What time is it?”

“Precisely five minutes until noon.”

“Shit!”

“Indeed, so best get a move-on.” Blitzo yelped when he got a firm slap to the ass on his way out of the shower. The prince only flashed a wink and a smirk after him. “I have sent Andras to bring the limo around front. He will give you a ride to the office presently -- and bring you back tonight, of course. I will be expecting you at dinner, big boy~”

Slamming the door behind him only got another chuckle out of the prince. And if there were still stupid little butterflies in his stomach as he got dressed and dashed out the door, Blitzo kept that much to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some tender aftercare because FUCK IT I'm in the mood. Thank you again for all the kudos and kind comments. c:


	4. drag my teeth across your chest (to taste your beating heart)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blitzo realizes, not for the first time, that he might be in over his head. This evening's line-up: dinner and a shit-show.

“You did _what_?!”

“Inside voices, Moxxie,” Blitzo replied with narrowed eyes, “and you heard me!”

The crew had taken the news about as well as he could have hoped. Which was to say they all lost their shit.

Moxxie immediately went into hysterics, the fucking spazz. Millie was trying to keep her husband from having a third heart attack and was failing miserably. Loona, for her part, was taking a video of the whole incident with her phone and laughing her ass off at the collective distress of her coworkers.

“Why-- When-- How could you do this? Without even consulting the rest of us?” Moxxie shrilled as he grabbed the taller imp by the shirt front.

“I’m sorry, but I think what you meant to say was ‘Hey, boss, thanks for signing up to be that asshole’s service top for life so we don’t lose our jobs.’” Blitzo shoved him away bodily. “And you’re very welcome, by the way!”

“No one asked you to do that!” Moxxie countered. “For goodness’ sake, you made a _deal_ with Prince _Stolas_? The same Great Prince and commander of twenty-six Legions whose book of spells you stole after a one night stand? The same asshole who keeps ringing us up day and night to leave sexually-frustrated death threats? Who is probably creaming himself over the perfect opportunity you just handed him to personally destroy us all?!"

"Mox, honey, remember that talk we had about your blood pressure and jumping to worst-case scenarios," Millie gently scolded him before glancing over at their boss. "That gentleman caller of yours isn't all _that_ bad… is he?"

“Please, like that leggy bastard’s ever hesitated to kill a bitch,” Blitzo grumbled, arms crossing. "If he wanted us dead, he'd have done it by now."

"You don't know that for sure," Moxxie said, still seething. "And it's not even the cannibal nympho you got for a sugar daddy that's our biggest problem. You know who is, though?"

"Oh, do tell," Blitzo sighed, rolling his eyes. He gave the little Moxxie bobblehead on his desk a few flicks just to spite him.

"His wife! Do you know what she did to the last side piece Stolas got too friendly in public with?" Moxxie clutched at his own horns as if to stave off a headache. Blitzo personally hoped he would get a week-long migraine. "They're still finding his body parts all over the Nine Circles, and you're lucky she didn't do the same to you after you literally crashed her tea party."

"You are just never going to let me live that down, are you?" Blitzo yelled, throwing his hands up.

“No, I won’t!”

“Hey, I did what I had to do,” he growled, poking Moxxie hard in the chest, “to keep this family together, you anal-retentive dickweed!”

“For the millionth time, we’re _not_ a family, you egomaniacal asshole!”

“Yes we are, you syphilitic slut! (No, not you, Loony.)”

“No we aren’t, you daddy-issues-having whore!”

“Momma’s boy!”

“Circus freak!”

“I’ve had just about enough from both of you!” 

Sliding in between them, Millie planted a firm hand on the chest of both imps. With a strength that belied her petite frame she gently but firmly pushed them apart. Both made an attempt to start tit-for-tatting again, but they had the good grace to look down at the floor when she gave them both a withering glare.

“Mox, that’s no way to talk to our boss,” she scolded before turning back to Blitzo. “And you aren’t helping either, sir. 

“Now I’m not the kind of lady to normally kick up a fuss, but… he’s right.” She brought her hands together in front of her mouth, sighing slightly as her gaze drifted down. “I know you were just trying to do right by us and the company, but Stolas and folks like him are a real bad crowd. They’re not like mortal souls. They’re honest-to-goodness old money, Old Testament demons. He could hurt you or try to get you by hurting someone you love, and he wouldn’t bat an eyelash. Do you understand that?”

A flush stole over face as guilt settled like a kidney stone in his gut. He rubbed at his arm and scuffed the floor with his boot. “Aw, Mills, I didn’t mean--”

“You charged in there without taking so much as a second to think of the consequences,” Moxxie said, sighing in defeat, “and now _we_ have to live with the mess you made.” 

“Hey, both of you cut him some fucking slack, okay?” All three imps whipped their heads around to see Loona leveling each of them with one of her best Unimpressed Glares. “Sure this is fuck-up number sixty-nine-hundred-and-forty-two from the guy and this is probably the king-daddy of all fuck-ups--”

“That really isn’t making me feeling any better...” Blitzo tried cutting in, but the hellhound continued.

“-- but he’s got his shit more together than you think.” She crossed her arms and leaned back in the rolly chair. “Every scrape he’s got us into, he’s also managed to get us out of. And probably any other asshole in the same situation would’ve just fired you both instead of selling his ass to a kinky rich bastard to make sure you can make rent. So at least give him some time on this one before you throw him under the bus.” 

The hellhound huffed and went back to scrolling through her phone. “But whatever. You want to be assholes about it, be my guest.”

An awkward silence followed suit. (Although Blitzo had to stifle a sappy tear or two. First installment he got from Stolas, he was giving that girl a _raise_.) Millie was the first to break it, as Moxxie was too busy extricating his foot from his mouth.

“Just… please be careful, sir,” she implored him, taking one of Blitzo’s hands between her own. “Promise me?”

“... I’ll do what I can, Mills,” he replied quietly, squeezing her smaller hand between his claws. “I’ll do what I can.”

* * *

He was quiet and pensive for the entirety of the limo ride back to Stolas’ estate. Thankfully, the limo driver was not interested in striking up a conversation and the prince was not burning up his phone again with text messages. His claw picked at the leather upholstery of the seat as he stared out the window at the passing city.

Fuck his employees (except maybe Loona right now) and double fuck his bleeding heart. Served him right for trying to help anyone but himself. Go to all the trouble to whore yourself out to your thirsty stalker of a client and no one could manage so much as a thank-you for your troubles. 

He tried and failed not to think about how they might be right, about how much of a gamble he was taking with Stolas’ forgiving nature. Just how far would the prince be willing to let him go with his sass and back-talk? Would one snarky comment or perceived rejection too many really set him off? And would it be Blitzo or his friends taking the heat for it?

Those dark thoughts haunted him as he was escorted up the front steps, through the foyer, and into the main hall beyond. The imp muttered half-hearted acknowledgement at the butler -- that Camio guy again -- told him to be seated at the table and that the prince would be attending shortly. He laced his claws beneath his chin and stared at his reflection in the way-too-shiny surface of the ebony wood.

 _‘Stop trying to play the hero,’_ he thought to himself. _Damn, looks like Dad and Barbie were right all along._

Distantly, he heard someone calling his name. It was only when he felt gloved talons slip under his chin and turn head that he was pulled back to the present.

“There we are,” the prince purred as their eyes met. “You look positively wretched, darling. Does the thought of dining with me really put you out that much?”

“Not everything’s about you,” Blitzo grumbled, tilting his head up and away to pull away from his touch. “Deal or no deal, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

“Now we both know that to be a lie.” Stolas slid easily into the seat adjacent to Blitzo as Camio pulled it back for him. He leaned his cheek on a fist as he scrutinized the imp. “But if not myself, then what exactly has you so subdued this evening? I would have thought you would be on cloud nine what with your business pulled back from the brink of certain bankruptcy.”

“Everything’s fine, okay?” the imp replied, barely keeping his voice even. “We’re all peachy and dandy and insert-your-favorite-fucking-adjective-here. Now stop prying into my personal life!”

“Temper, Blitzy, temper,” the prince scolded him, voice quiet and sharp as a switchblade. “Outside our little liasons, I do not care for that tone.” 

He stood up again, staring down his beak at Blitzo. The tension in the air ratcheted up from one to ten in an instant. The lights dimmed, and the imp swore he could hear the table rattling beneath him. One hand came up to not-so-gently hold his jaw, talons digging in this time.

“Do I need to remind you of your place in this arrangement?”

Blitzo was not sure what made him snap. Maybe it was all the unresolved tension of the day, maybe it was his inability to back down or quit while he was ahead. Maybe it was just the months of that stupid smarmy shit son-of-bitch constantly harassing him finally boiling over.

Whatever the case, the next thing Blitzo knew was that the Stolas was sprawled on top of the table and his teeth were buried in the side of the prince’s long neck. His pretentious top hat went rolling away, and he felt the breath leave the demon in a woosh. When those hands moved to shove Blitzo off, he instantly grabbed and pinned those wrists on either side of the owl beneath him.

“Ooooh,” the prince moaned, feathers shivering beneath him. “If you needed a good fuck, all you had to do was say s-- Ah! Yes!”

Blitzo only bit down harder the more Stolas talked, tasting iron as he drew blood. Of _course_ the bastard would get off on someone mauling his neck. 

“Harder! Harder! Oh, oh, yes, please! Bite me, mark me! Make me feel it, make me bleed! Please--”

The imp shut him up with a rough kiss. He thrust his tongue forward, and the other’s beak parted willing for him. Blitzo did not let up for a moment, not even the prince was gasping desperately for breath.The imp fucked his creepy mouth in every sense, anything to keep him from getting a word in edgewise.

Long legs locked behind him as they had last night, and even as pissed as he was, Blitzo instinctively thrust against him. Stolas all but squealed in delight against his lips. Fine, if the bastard wanted to get fucked that badly then the imp would be happy to hold his ass down and--

“Head down, Blitzy.”

“What?” The sudden and surprisingly not horny command broke him from his angry fucking. “What do you mean ‘head dow--’ Oof!”

Blitzo’s face was instantly crushed to Stolas’ chest, the prince easily breaking free of his hold. Before he could so much as ask what the hell the flighty bastard was doing, he heard the _whip!_ of something flying past where his head had been half a second ago. 

When he looked up, he saw a knife lodged firmly in the wall and crackling with dark magic. The imp blanched as he slowly turned his head in the direction from which said knife had launched. 

Standing in the doorway was a vaguely avian demon. Which itself was not out of the ordinary considering the mansion and who owned it. What _was_ noteworthy was the generous grey plumage of her head, her crown, and not least of all the family resemblance she had to a certain asshole that Blitzo had only moments before been about to fuck. She was staring daggers at the imp, and she was brandishing actual daggers in her hand.

“Octavia, my chick,” Stolas drawled beneath him, sounding entirely too pleased. “Impeccable aim, but my rule still stands: no knife-throwing at our guests during dinner.”

“That’s some ‘guest’ you’ve got crawling all over you.” She crossed the room in an instant, yanking Blitzo up and off. He sucked in a breath when he felt the tip of one dagger at his throat.

“As for you, _imp_ , you have exactly five seconds to explain why my dad’s bleeding at the neck,” she growled with narrowed bubblegum-pink eyes, pressing on the blade, ”before I cut yours open.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody is happy with Blitzo today, except maybe for Stolas. Hope you guys enjoyed. c: As always, kudos and comments are much appreciated!


	5. oh how you turn my world (you precious thing)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting your sugar daddy's kid makes for an awkward evening to say the least. That night, Stolas earns himself a little comeuppance.

“Look, lady, I don’t want any trouble. I swear this ain’t what it looks like.” He held up both his hands in surrender, managing a shaky grimace. “So how’s about you put the knife down and we have a nice civil heart-to-- Oh shitshitshitshitshit!”

Whatever blueblood, inbred crazy that made Stolas fond of Blitzo had obviously not been passed down to his daughter. At least that was the imp’s first impression. The thin bloody line she grazed through the collar of his shirt and across his neck was certainly not convincing him otherwise. 

“The only heart we’re going to be having is yours on a spit,” Octavia hissed. Her hold on his shirt front tightened and she slammed him into the wall. Stars danced in front of his eyes as he wondered just what the everloving _fuck_ it was with this family and manhandling him. She poised the knife over his chest. “Now keep still while I carve it out.”

“Now I think that is quite enough of that.”

Not a moment too soon (and certainly taking his sweet fucking time), Stolas had caught up with them. With one hand he replaced and straightened his hat. Meanwhile the other easily took hold of Octavia’s blade between two claws. A flick of his wrist sent the blade flying to join its brother on the opposite wall.

“Dad, what’re you--?” Confusion had Octavia’s brow furrowing, but her hold on Blitzo did not loosen in the least.

“This imp has my blessing to come and go as he pleases from the estate. He is my chosen companion until further notice, and to that end he is allowed certain…” A brush of the back of his hand across his neck and the bite marks were gone in an instant. “Liberties.“

He crossed his arms and wagged a talon even as smiled fondly at her. “In short, he is off-limits,” he concluded. “So let him down, chick.”

“...He’s your newest side bitch, isn’t he?” She promptly dropped Blitzo to the ground like so much radioactive dog shit. Feathers ruffling slightly, she took a pointed step or two back. 

“Not the wording I would have chosen, but yes.”

“And you two were going at it on the dining room tab-- Oh, that is so fucking gross!”

Bending slightly at the waist, he plucked Blitzo up and promptly sat him back on his hooves. A swipe of his thumb over the imp’s throat and his shirt and skin were knitted back together in short order. The prince hummed idly under his breath as he swiftly dusted the other off and set him back to rights. Blitzo, for his part, was still staring wide-eyed at both of them.

“Does anyone want to explain to me what the fuck is going on?” he asked, a little breathlessly. “Sans the murder attempts, please!”

“Ah, I have been remiss. I suppose some introductions would be in order.” He gestured to the imp first. “Octavia, this is Blitzo of I.M.P., a charming little start-up in the downtown and manager thereof. I have had the pleasure of doing business with the company for some time now.”

 _I guess that makes me the ‘business,’_ the imp thought to himself.

“And this,” Stolas continued as strolled towards the other, “is Octavia of the Thirty-Sixth House, commander of my Legions and sole heir to my throne. And, not least of all, the pride and joy of my life.”

His voice was practically dripping with sappy familial affection as he promptly smothered the young demon in a hug. Then he put his beak to the top of her head and oh God the bastard was actually preening her. Blitzo might have felt sorry for the poor kid if she had not just attempted to carve him up like a fucking turkey.

“Dad! Would you quit-- Stop it!” She squirmed out of his hold, and her feathers puffed up indignantly. “I’m not five anymore!”

“Oh, Papa’s little hell-raiser did so well!” Stolas continued, squeezing her face between his hands before pulling back to clasp a hand to his chest. Blitzo watched on bemusedly at the prince’s overbearing outburst of fatherly affection. “Ready to tear a sinner limb-from-limb just to avenge her kin over the smallest perceived slight. Oh, but you are a little terror after my black heart!”

“I’m starting to wish I’d just left you bleeding on the table,” she muttered when he finally let her go, rubbing at her pinched cheek.

If this whole scene got much more saccharine, he was going to have to pop by the dentist to fix his impending cavity. Apparently being Stolas’ main squeeze was nothing compared to the absolute horror of being related to him. The imp coughed to get their attention again.

“I hate to interrupt a father-daughter bonding moment,” he cut in, “but do you think maybe you could wrap it up? I’ve had a real shitshow of a day, needless to say. And speaking for my myself, I’d like to catch a bite before another member of your lovely family assaults me, Stolas.”

“Lay your fears to rest. Stella is out for the evening, and I think you and I will be taking dinner in private.” He came to rest his hands on the imp’s shoulders, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “And after, we will continue where we left off~”

“Gonna give someone some major whiplash one of these days with the way you keep fucking mood swinging,” Blitzo grumped. He sent up a prayer in the half-hearted hope his hips would not turn to dust tonight.

“And that’s my cue to get the fuck out.” Octavia turned about-face on her heel and made a beeline for the door. “Camio! I need hot water and bleach for my eyes! And my brain, while you’re at it!”

“Real charmer, ain’t she?” Blitzo snarked when she was out of earshot.

“Try not to bear too much of a grudge, darling,” Stolas replied, pressing a hand to the small of the imp’s back to steer him forward. Too tired to squirm his way out of this one, Blitzo let himself be guided out of the dining room and towards the grand stairs in the foyer. 

“She has been protective of her mother and myself since she was old enough to stretch her wings. True loyalty: hers is a rare virtue in Hell, especially among the nobility. Most heirs her age have attempted to off their sire or dames at least once." A smile that was for once not a smirk ghosted across the prince's face. "I could not ask for a better commander of my forces, even if I wished to do so.”

The imp glanced sidelong at the prince as they walked in silence for a moment. Well, put him in a sombrero and fuck him perpindicular. Turned out the leggy bastard actually _could_ think of someone besides himself or his libido once in a while.

"Now, I understand you are quite gifted with a rope," Stolas remarked, glancing down at him with a look in his eye the imp knew all too well by this point. "How about we put that to use tonight? I am feeling a bit _knotty_ , so to speak."

Now if he could just get the prince to keep his fucking creepy mouth shut, he might be a half-tolerable partner in bed.

* * *

"Safeword is 'Andrew Lloyd Webber.'" The imp paused as he tightened the knot. "We're supposed to use safewords for stuff like this, right?

"Please yourself," Stolas replied, shrugging as best as he could with his wrists tied behind his back. "Nothing short of a summoning circle painted in virgin blood can truly bind me. This--" He pulled slightly at the rope. "--is more to set the mood."

“... I’m guessing it’d be bad form to use the rest of this rope to make a noose.” He slipped two fingers beneath the bindings at the prince’s chest, elbows, and wrists. Right, just tight enough. “Your kid would probably come after me with a fucking hatchet if I did.”

“As if she would use anything so plebeian.” Rumbling slightly, he fixed the imp with a half-lidded gaze. “For now, however, let us not speak of such things. It is rude to the intimacy, and this evening is for you and me alone.”

Coming from literally anyone else, that might have been romantic. Coming from the prince, it just made Blitzo wish for a ball-gag. Or just a really good pair of noise-cancelling headphones. 

Stolas was currently kneeling in the middle of the mattress, his legs left unbound for convenience. He was positively pleased with himself if his swishing tail feathers and too-wide smile were anything to go by. Even all naked and trussed up, he still managed to constantly ooze with smarmy smugness.

 _One way or another, I’m going to find a way to shut that shit-trap you call a mouth,_ he promised himself. He had not forgotten the prince’s prodding in the dining room, and he intended to get some good old-fashion fucking payback.

“Spread your legs,” Blitzo ordered, raking his claws down the prince’s front. “Now.”

“Oh, I just adore an insistent imp.” Stolas was immediately shuffling his legs further apart. Already the feathers at the juncture of his thighs were damp. “I’m so wet-- Ah!”

“Of course you are.” Blitzo thrust two fingers up into his cunt. Slick walls parted easily as he pulled in and out.

“Because that’s just the kind of fucking slut you are, isn’t it? Look at you, loose as a retired prostitute. A guy could just shove his dick right up in there and you’d be ready for him anytime, anywhere.”

“Oh, please, Blitzy! I want it!”

“Like you have any damn right to be making demands.” The imp nipped along Stolas’ neck, ruffling feathers and leaving marks beneath. Pulling back, he made sure the prince’s hungry eyes were on him as he licked his slick fingers clean. “Bitches like you gotta earn it.”

A hard tug on the binding at Stolas’ chest had the prince keeling forward. He landed face-first on Blitzo’s thigh with a small hoot of surprise. Still, it only took him half a second to see the imp’s red dick hard-and-ready just a few inches from his face and have his mouth open. 

“Yeah, you know what to do.” He twisted his claws in the feathers of the prince’s head. “So fucking get down to it.”

The imp groaned as Stolas instantly took him to the hilt. Head falling back, he was not shy about thrusting his hips up to meet that mouth. When he felt a bit of that tell-tale pressure from the prince’s jaw, however, Blitzo hauled him off with a sharp jerk.

“Bite me and I’ll make sure you don’t cum even once,” the imp growled, “so don’t even try me tonight. Understand?”

“Mmm, yes, Blit--” The prince gagged as Blitzo thrust into his mouth again. The fluttering of his throat around the imp’s dick nearly had him getting off then and there. Seemed like Stolas was getting off on it, too, the way his body shook and the way he moaned.

Just a few minutes of humping against the prince’s face had them both edging. As satisfying as it would have been to finish off in Stolas’ mouth, he did not care for his little petty vengeance to be over so soon. 

When he pulled the prince off again, he grinned ear-to-ear to hear his pitiful whimper. Blitzo wiped off a bit of drool that had accumulated at the corner of his mouth and patted Stolas’ cheek.

“See, shutting up ain’t so hard now, is it? What a good little slut.” Blitzo stroked his head almost fondly as the prince lay with his cheek against his thigh. “Bet your cunt is just _burning_ to have something in it.”

“Need it so badly,” Stolas whined, panting. The ropes creaked as they were strained, and it was clear that the prince was scarcely resisting the urge to snap them and have his own way. “Need _you_ , Blitzy.”

“Fine, but you’ve still got a sinner’s mile to go before you get this dick.” He flipped the prince over and away until he was on his belly (and narrowly avoiding a few talons to the eye _Jesus_ how did this bastard not constantly trip over his own stupid legs). Blitzo kneed his legs apart and pushed forward until Stolas’ ass met his belly. Then he pressed between Stolas’ shoulders until his ass was in the air and his head was pressed into the sheets. 

Sweeping his tail feathers aside, Blitzo took a moment to take in the sight of his dripping folds. Then he positioned himself so that the upperside of his dick slid back and forth against his outer folds but never quite moving further in. Stolas squawked indignantly, and the heated pout he sent over his shoulder was absolutely priceless. Fuck, what Blitzo would _not_ have given for a camera right now! 

“You absolute _fucking_ tease!” Stolas ground out with a shriek that had the picture frames on the walls rattling.

“Well, that’s what you get being a little bitch at dinner,” the imp sneered back. His hand closed firmly over the back of Stolas’ neck and shoved his head back into the mattress as Blitzo continued with his vengeful frottage. “Now keep your trap shut and I might actually put it in you later.”

* * *

Eighteen… Nineteen… Twenty… Twenty-one. Twenty-one spines from the tip of his head to the end of his devil’s tail. Striped, handsome horns arching back, perfect for grabbing onto, for restraining. Carmine skin riddled with a constellation of little scars, adorable patches of white on his face and belly and thighs. And the little skull-heart insignia between his horns, as black as if someone had stamped it there with a hot branding iron.

In the afterglow of their lovemaking, Stolas familiarized himself with every inch of the imp’s body. He lay with an exhausted and already-asleep Blitzo cradled to his chest. Bits of rope lay in tatters on the sheets. A sweet ache remained between Stolas’ thighs, and the air still smelled of sweat and sex. In the darkness of his bedroom, the prince thought it nothing short of divine. 

His talons rubbed down Blitzo’s spine, over his backside and his outer thighs. Passing over the raised and scarcely-healed flesh where he had nearly clawed the imp apart the night before. Stroking back up to the small of his back, pausing to feel the rise and fall of his breath. Feeling the pulse of that heart and fancying (only for a moment) what it would be like to tear it out, to hold it as it bled and beat in his hand.

“To be able to see it,” he mused softly to himself. “To be able to know what goes on in that mind of yours. To know the nightmares and fears that eat you alive, day and night. What price will it take, I wonder?” He tucked the imp’s head beneath his chin and chirred quietly.

“What will it take for you to let me in, Blitzy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stolas is the kind of dad who will 'accidentally' drop his wallet full of pictures of his kids to show the world (In my personal headcanon anyway.)  
> I have a little extra free time around the holidays, so have another chapter a little early. As always, I'd love to know your thoughts on the story so far. Kudos and comments make my day!


	6. my sun only in winter (only when i need you or else you won't need me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is business as usual with I.M.P., and Stolas seeks advice from an old friend.

_Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!_

“Will you _please_ turn your phone off, sir?”

“My hands are kinda fucking full at the moment, Moxxie!”

“Why didn’t you turn it off before we left?”

“Maybe because I was too distracted by all your whiny bitching! Now less yappin’ and more neck snappin’, okay?”

Their mission today was less of a murder and more of a small-scale massacre. Some cult or other had summoned one too many demons lately, and it had pissed off their client enough to call I.M.P. to put the whole crowd down. Blitzo doubted there had been so many sorry fucks in one place since Jonestown. Well, they were certainly being put out of their misery now.

He was currently strangling one jackass who had the bright idea to throw holy water on the invading demons. Had the imp reacted a split second later, he would have gotten a faceful of it instead of across his arms.

_Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!_

“Oh, Jesus _fucking_ Christ!” Throwing the man down, he pinned his victim in place with a boot to the head. He whipped out his phone and saw the caller was none other than Stolas himself (now listed as ‘Leggy Bastard’ in his contacts). He swiped the answer icon and brought it up to his ear with a snarl. “I’m in the middle of work, Stolas! What do you fucking want?!”

“You’d think the man would’ve stopped making as many daytime calls after Blitzo made that deal with him,” Millie sighed as she wrenched her pike out of her latest mark’s chest. “You reckon he’s just got it that bad for the boss?”

“More like he’s getting some pretty vengeance after Blitzo turned him down so many times,” Moxxie groused, loading up another belt on his M2 Browning. “Let’s just be happy he hasn’t decided to include us in it.”

“It’s been closer to three months at this point, Mox. Surely he-- Oh, hold on, sweetie.” Whipping around, she punted another mortal’s head clean off their shoulders. “Surely he would’ve tried something by now if that’s what he was meaning to do.”

“How do we know he isn’t doing this for the long con? The boss might be lulled into a false sense of security, but I won’t be!”

“You just don’t want to admit one of his batshit schemes actually worked out this time,” Loona chimed in, picking at a bit of viscera from between her teeth with her pinky claw. “And you want to call his sugar daddy the petty guy?”

Before Moxxie could work up a retort, however, they were interrupted by a shout from Blitzo.

“No, I will _not_ drop everything I’m fucking doing just because you want some! And I think I made my position on autoerotic asphyxiation pretty clear, you horny asshole! And if you don’t like it, then tough tits! You’re a kinky kind of guy, so you can take that smug, entitled attitude and shove it up your--”

Whatever orifice Blitzo intended for Stolas to “shove it up” would forever remain a mystery as his words were drowned out by the screams of cultists being gunned down. Face flushed a deep red, Moxxie had evidently heard far more than he ever wished about his boss’s booty calls and resumed his deluge. 

“Can’t say I’d want to take his place, though,” Loona snorted.

“--so fuck you, and your stupid hat, too!” Blitzo growled under his breath before sighing and massaging his temple. “Yeah, I’ll see you at six. Bye.” Hanging up on the call, he sent the son-of-a-bitch still underfoot straight to Hell with a firm heel through his skull. 

When he noticed the other three (and a few braver mortals) just staring at him, he had the good grace to blush. Oh, right. They were still there. And they had most likely just heard _all_ of his ranting.

“What’re you guys mooning at? We ain’t getting paid to _stare_ ‘em to death, people! Nothing to see here, so back to business, chop chop!”

* * *

"My dear Lily, it has been entirely too long,” the prince cooed, taking the woman’s hands in his own. “Beautiful and ravishing as ever, old girl~”

“Only you could make ‘old girl’ sound endearing, Stolas,” she laughed, her voice deep and smoky as only a long-time singer’s could be.

The two of them leaned in for a quick _faire_ _la bise_ before Stolas lead the way to the parlor. Tea was already set on a silver tea service by one window, and Camio was just setting down a tray of bloood-soaked brimstone biscuits when the pair of them walked in. He pulled out a chair for each of them before bowing out of the room himself.

“So,” Lilith ventured, sipping at a cup of tea, “what has your tail feathers in such a bind?”

“Am I that transparent?” His smiled was a wan and chagrined one as he held his own cup between his talons.

“It is never _just_ a social visit with anyone among the Houses,” she explained, setting the tea down. “I can count on one hand the number of times you have called me personally, and each time it has been because you needed something from me.” There was no anger or disappointment in her expression, only the understanding of an old friend. “And, frankly, you are lacking of a bit of the old razzle-dazzle.”

That surprised a snort out of him of him. Still, he supposed it was only to be expected. The Queen of Hell had always been able to read him well. Naturally so, as they had been bosom friends since before the Fall.

“Well, since I am found out so easily, I will get straight to the point,” he sighed. “My troubles are of the romantic kind, and I am out of my depth.”

“Troubles with Stella?” Lilith raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought you two had already come to an understanding: that she wanted no more to do with you than you with her.”

“Oh no, she and I still of one mind on _that_ subject,” Stolas corrected. “No, this… lies beyond the vows and bonds of the marital sphere.”

“So another paramour of yours then. Though your point is not much clearer. Any lovers that become more trouble than they are worth either become your lunch or are offered up to appease Stella’s sensibilities. And clearly your current one is giving you plenty of trouble--”

“‘So why have you not gotten rid of him already and what has this to do with me?’ you might ask. And there is the crux of the matter, Lily: I do not know.” He turned his head to glance out the window. 

“Well, that is not entirely true, either. There is a Deal he made with me that prevents me from simply casting him aside. More the point, even if I could do so, I have no wish to be rid of him. The imp has been, shall we say, an obsession of mine for some time now, and I have no intentions of giving up the chase now. Still, I am at a loss with him”

He was digressing now, but he lost in his own thoughts as he spoke them aloud and Lilith did not move to silence him.

“The terms of the Deal are such that he is mine, body and soul, and all the implied services therein are mine to exploit as I please.” He set the teacup down and brought a fist to his temple. “So why am I not satisfied with that? What more can I possibly possess of him? Why do I hunger to know the innermost stirrings of his mind when they do not benefit me materially or abstractly? Why does it tear at my gizzard each time he refuses to tell me anything of himself?”

Silence spread between for a few moments. When he looked up again, the sight he was met with gave him pause. Lilith was smiling from horn-to-horn, as if there were some wonderful joke here that only she was privy to. Something a little like nervousness trickled down his spine.

“Did I say something amusing?” That only got a chuckle from her in response.

“You know, darling,” she said, lacing her fingertips beneath her chip, “as brilliant and cunning as you can be, you are quite stupid when it comes to matters of your own heart.”

“What?” Stolas tilted his head to the side with a little ‘hoot’ of consternation. That sent the woman into a proper round of laughing hysterics for a minute or two. The prince was beginning to think she had gone properly mad before finally she reigned herself in. Chuckling as she flicked a tear or two away from her painted eyelids, she fixed him with another look.

“You have fallen in love, you idiot,” she clarified, reaching over to flick a finger between his eyes.

“Ow! And just how did you come to that ridiculous notion?” he groused none-too-graciously as he rubbed at the tender spot.

“We are Fallen, Stolas, but that does not mean we are without the occasional virtue. Were this lover of yours simply another pleasant distraction, you would not concern yourself for a moment with his happiness or his mind or his heart. But clearly he means something a little more to you.” Her fingers tapped lightly, muffled by the tablecloth. “Now I think I see what you called me for, even if you do not know it yourself: you want him to open up to you, maybe even to love you back.”

“And how do you propose I do that?” he scoffed, hating the weary hopelessness that seeped into his tone. “Nothing binds him to me but the Deal and my patronship of his business. If he had it his way, he would never have anything to do with me again. The odds are hardly stacked in my favor here, and I have even less of an idea of where to begin.”

“I never said it would be easy.” Leaning forward across the table, she lifted his chin and patted his cheek with a hand. “But if you really want to possess his heart and mind as much as his body and soul, then you will be willing to work for it, for however long that might take.”

Breathing through his nose, he let his face lean into her hand. He had know the task would be difficult, but only now was he beginning to realize how intractable the situation might be. By the Circles, but his chest ached at the thought. Still, if he was truly at rock-bottom, there was nowhere to go but up. And he would not give up his imp without a good fight.

“How and where do I start then?”

“Now there’s my Right Hand,” she praised, and he warmed at her approval despite himself. “For one, you need to allow him his own time away from you. Absence will hardly make his heart grow fonder if you are constantly demanding his presence in your house and bedroom. You can be… _intense_ , darling, especially when you have to play the pursuer. Even the most lust-ridden sinner would find themselves rightly intimidated.”

“I am _not_ inten--”

“Secondly,” she said, cutting of his indignant squawk as she pulled back and stood up, “you need to find some common ground with him that does not involve a bed and a strap-on. Blitzo has a hellhound receptionist that he looks after in the same way you look after little Octavia. You might start there, for instance.”

“Have the rumors really gone so far, for you to know so much?” Stolas asked with some displeasure.

“Not so far as you think, but then there is little of the goings-on of the Houses that does not reach my ears or my husband’s.” A wicked grin crossed her face and hellfire licked in her bright eyes before she settled again. “Now, when he comes to you at dinner tonight, here is what you must do…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this has much basis in actual literature, but I once read that Stolas is sometimes considered a familiar of Lilith. Whatever the case, I just like the idea of these two being buddies.
> 
> My apologies for the wait: work and illness kept me a little busy. Now I'm back, and I hope this fic continues to please!


	7. still anxiously i wait (patient is the night)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith's advice works out quite well, but Blitzo is left feeling more confused than ever about the prince.

From the moment he walked in the foyer, Blitzo was spooked out of his damned mind.

It was just a tension at first, a nagging feeling in his gut that something was just slightly off-kilter in the gaudy-ass mansion. He initially dismissed it as the fatigue and pains from the workday getting to him. 

His arms still ached fiercely beneath the bandages. While generally not enough to kill a demon outright, holy water was still one potent bitch of a weapon. Battery acid and lemon juice on an open wound (with some salt rubbed in just for spite) would have hurt less. If he ever met the motherfucker who spritzed him down here in Hell, he would curb stomp his head in (again). 

Blitzo prayed to whatever divinity or damnation might be listening that whatever Stolas had in mind for tonight did not involve the imp topping. Maybe the prince would be satisfied with riding his dick or fondling him or just generally using him like a sex doll. Shit, Blitzo might even get a blowjob or two out of it. More or less how they spent every night Stolas called him over.

Speaking of which, where _was_ the saucer-eyed creep? By now he would have expected the prince to materialize at his side like a horny vampire. At the very least he would have sent one of the help down to say that he was being delayed for a moment. That sense of wrongness was stronger as it crept up his spine.

“Got some fucking nerve,” he grumbled to himself as he made his way towards the dining room. “Ringing me up six-hundred and sixty-six fucking times in the middle of the workday so I’ll bang him, and he’s a no-show when I finally get here. “ (And moreover, why did the thought of Stolas flaking out on him make his chest clench a little?)

When he came to stand in the doorway, he looked out to see both the long ebony table and the room itself empty. Not so much as a servant or nympho noble in sight. Eventually he wandered away from the dining room and into the even larger ballroom beyond.

His boots clicked on the mirror-finish grey-and-mauve tiles. The sound echoed up to the vaulted ceiling high above. It was quiet enough for him to hear and count his own heartbeats. Too quiet. Had everyone suddenly up and died or some shit?

“Hello?” he yelled to the silence. “Anyone here, or should I just see myself out--?”

A creaking behind him had his head snapping around almost fast enough to give him whiplash. One of the doors leading out onto the balcony and the gardens below had opened apparently of its own accord. Hand slipping down to finger the pistol in his coat pocket, he walked slowly towards the door. Whatever wannabe Casper that was fucking with him had just played his last game of peekaboo--

But there was no one outside waiting to jumpscare him. The imp saw no one at all, save for a familiar feathery figure leaning with his arms folded against the railing of the landing below.

“For fuck’s sake!” Blitzo breathed out, letting go of the pistol in his pocket even as he took the stairs down two at a time. He really was going to strangle him this time. “I know you’re the most privileged cunt with a tophat this side of the Styx, but--”

“Ah, there you are,” Stolas trilled, as infuriatingly unflappable as ever. “I was beginning to wonder if you had gotten lost.”

“And you couldn’t have taken two seconds to send someone to meet me? You have a small army of the buttoned-up little shits!”

“Dismissed for the evening,” the prince explained as he turned to face Blitzo. “I did not wish to be disturbed by anyone for anything, save for you, my dear.”

And here it came. Stolas’ latest fucked-up plan to run his glorified bedtoy ragged until morning. Probably something involving choking this time. Stolas, he had come to understand all too well, was a masochistic little freak like that. There was already a retort on Blitzo’s lips, and he expected the worst.

What he did not expect was the gloved hand extended towards him, palm up and talons beckoning him forward.

“Join me for a smoke in the garden?” Stolas asked, a picture of congeniality and polite control that frankly scared the piss out of the imp.

“... Why?” was all Blitzo could manage after a few beats of silence.

“It suits my whim to pass the evening this way,” Stolas answered without really answering him at all. “And it would suit me even more to pass it with you.”

That hand was still offered up to him, and Blitzo was not sure if shock or bemusement or simple relief moved him to accept it. Those fingers closed around his deftly. For a moment that thumb circled over his wrist, as strangely tender as that morning in the bath. Then he was being pulled along and he had no more time to think about it.

Stolas led them a short distance to knoll that overlooked the gardens. Set in the slope was an ebony-wooded pergola, dark vines climbing up the posts and feylights woven in between. Plush cushions were strewn on a blanket that had been laid down. On a small, lowset table sat a silver hookah that had already been sent to burning. Tobacco and something else that Blitzo could not make out met his nose.

“Apple-flavored mu’assel -- a gift from an old friend.” Stolas answered the question before he could think to voice it. The prince sat himself on one side of the table, and he gestured for Blitzo to follow suit on the opposite side. 

From here he could see the balcony of Stolas’ bedroom several floors above. The gardens were spread out below in the growing dusk, some silver tables and chairs set out for tea parties or whatever shit rich people got up to. Blitzo knew that for a fact as he had fallen from that very balcony onto said rich people, half-naked and clutching a pilfered grimoire and smeared in frosting and spongecake. Well, this brought back some memories.

“I am assuming you know how to--?”

“This is Hell, Stolas, everyone knows how to smoke a damned hookah.” Now that he could finally get his wits back together, some of his snappiness was returning. Whatever game the prince was playing, Blitzo was not going to be lulled into a false sense of security that easily.

“Have a little patience with me, darling,” Stolas replied, firmly but not unkindly. He took the hose first, putting its delicately fashioned tip to his lips and taking a deep draw. Smoke fell from his beak a few moments later to thread up into the dark red sky as night gathered around them.

“The question was not meant as an insult. I want your ease and your time tonight, not another of our little spats.”

Blitzo would have loved to tell the bastard how fucking rich that sounded coming from him of all people. Instead he snatched the hose as it was passed over to him and took a much less delicate breath. A satisfying burn filled his chest, the flavor sitting on his tongue. It steeled his nerves well enough, and he looked down in reluctant wonder.

“Damn,” he muttered as little smoke puffs drifted out of the corner of his mouth. “This shit really does taste like apples. Where’d this friend of yours even get it?”

“Oh, you won’t find this on the market at any price, low or high,” Stolas chuckled when the piece was passed back to him in turn. “She makes it herself, I believe. As one of her closer and older friends, I have the luxury of always having a little on hand.”

“Ain’t gonna lie,” Blitzo admitted, the tobacco dulling the edges of all his stress and pain, “I could get used to this.”

“You could, you know.” A pause, before Stolas continued. “I would have you properly spoiled and cared for, always, if you would only let me.”

The imp had no reply for that, so he made none.

“How is that receptionist of yours?” Stolas ventured again after a few minutes of silence and smoking. “A hellhound by the name of Loona, isn’t she?”

“And why in the here would that matter to you?” Blitzo asked, more surprised than defensive as he began to mellow out.

“Simply making conversation, Blitzy. I am not looking for any leverage against her or your associates, if that is what you are afraid of.”

Who needed leverage when you had a Deal binding someone? The imp kept that much to himself, however.

“... Moody, feral, coming down with a case of rabies, I think,” Blitzo replied after a while. “You know, the usual. I think she still might be a little pissy with me after that accident with the spiders.”

“I see.” Stolas’ gaze was cast up to the Pentagram far above them and the stars even further beyond. “She is a somewhat troublesome employee for you, then?”

“Oh, the absolute fucking worst,” Blitzo snorted. “But that’s Loony for you. She’s her own bad bitch, and she’ll maul the shit out of anyone who tries to tell her what to do. She doesn’t take shit from anyone. Not me, not you, not even Old Scratch himself.”

“I will admit that surprises me,” the prince murmured, taking a moment to turn over and tap the coals of the hookah a bit before taking another drag. “As dispatch and the primary liaison between you and your clients, does that not cause problems in your line of work? Not to speak of the loose cannon she might be out in the field.”

“Maybe, but…” Flopping back on the cushions, it was the imp’s turn to look up and consider the stars. “I’ve never been able to stay mad at her for more than half a second. Or any of them really. (Except maybe Moxxie.) Much as it makes me sound like a sappy shit, she’s the closest thing I’ve got to a kid.

“My dad... My old man, he…” Blitzo took a deep breath and exhales it in a long, shaky sigh. Despite his better judgement, the words came tumbling out from somewhere deep in his gut. “He was a real piece of work, even as dads in Hell go. A real burnt piece of dogshit scraped off Cerberus’ taint, if I’m being honest. Makes some of the stuff they do to sinners down in the Deep Pits look like a fucking cakewalk. He never went a day without making sure I knew I was a worthless asshole just like him who’d never amount to anything. If it weren’t for Tilla and Barbie, I… I don’t know how I’d have coped, honestly.

“So I guess, when you get down to it, that’s why I’m not harder on Loona even if I should be. I don’t ever want to make her feel the way I did back then. Maybe it’s just my way of sticking it to the old man, may he rest in fucking pieces. So maybe I’ve spoiled her or let her get away with too much. So what? This is Hell, for fuck’s sake.”

“Hm.” Blitzo thought he heard the sound of claws tearing through velvet, and there was the slightest edge to Stolas’ tone. But when he turned his head to glance at the other, the prince was as composed as ever. “A fair point. I confess that I would act no differently where it concerns Octavia.”

“Anything for daddy’s little princess, huh?” the imp asked with a wry smile, lightly elbowing the prince in the side.

“Quite right,” Stolas laughed in turn. “We have a pair of spoiled brats between us, it seems.” He paused in thought for a moment. “I wonder if they could not become friends after a fashion.”

“If they don’t try to murder each other on-sight first? Maybe.” Blitzo sat up one elbow to scrutinize him. “But why? I didn’t figure you’d let her have any friends without a pedigree.”

“If Stella had her way, then that would certainly be true. However, I learned long ago that telling Octavia to do anything is a fruitless venture for all that I am both her father and liege. 

“More the point, my little owlet has very few companions. Partly by choice, and partly due to the fact that many her own age are rightly intimidated by her.” A smile curved on his lips as he looked back at the imp. “Your Loona, from the way you have described her, would have no such reservations. It would be good for Octavia to have someone who can match her for temperament and will, so to speak.”

“Don’t even go there.” Blitzo lightly swatted him on the side of the head. “I’m _not_ helping you set up a playdate, you leggy bastard. And last time I checked, your kid still thinks I’ve radioactive or some shit along with anyone else who works for me.” 

“As you say,” Stolas chuffed, still smiling, “but such a partnership might be to our mutual benefit as well as theirs. Give the matter some thought and sleep on it, won’t you?”

“...No promises, but fine. I’ll _think_ about it.”

“But of course.”

Later, Blitzo would blame it on all the tobacco going to his head, the day catching up to him and mugging him of his good senses. His eyes were fixed on the prince’s face. Those pale feathers ludicrously sexy in the dim light, that hard black beak that knew how to nip and nuzzle at him expertly. Blitzo wondered distantly if his mouth would taste like apples, too, and suddenly he was leaning in to test that theory himself.

A surprised trill against his lips was the sole sign of Stolas’ hesitance, and it lasted only a moment. His beak tugged at his lips, tongue sweeping across to move inside. Blitzo parted willingly and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Tongues tangled, moans escaped from both of them.

Somewhere along the way his hand gave up to tangle in Stolas’ feathers. Stolas braced himself with one hand over Blitzo and cradled the back of the imp’s head with his other. Blitzo lay back against he cushions, one leg hooking over Stolas’ hip as his tail twisted around his thigh. Already the imp had a raging hard-on as he ground against him and they parted for air and--

“I… I think you had better return home tonight.” 

Stolas’ voice was breathy and strained as he pulled back. Only now had he seemed to lose the composure he had maintained all evening, his hat slightly askew and his feathers ruffled. Everything in his expression and the way his body quivered said he was ready to jump Blitzo’s bones, and yet he did not.

“What?” was as intelligent of a reply as the imp could manage, out of breath and hornier than a briar patch in that moment.

“You have had a long day, and I have kept you up quite late.” Stolas gently pulled the imp to his feet. His claws trailed down over the sleeves of the imp’s coat gently, as if he sensed the injuries beneath. 

Blitzo most certainly had whiplash of a sort now as he struggled to get a word in edgewise. “But you-- We were about to-- Aren’t you--?”

“Go home and rest now. I will have a car pulled around front to take you back.“ He touched Blitzo once more, pressing his beak between his horns in a kiss that was downright chaste for the prince. Those arms hugged the imp hard to his chest before he finally let go. “We will speak more tomorrow. Good night, Blitzy.”

And, with that, Stolas was walking swiftly back towards the mansion, leaving Blitzo alone and confused and aching beneath the pergola.

* * *

He saw no more sign of Stolas or anyone else when he eventually went back inside. Blitzo’s thoughts were in a whirl as he retraced his steps back through the ballroom and into the dining room. His chest ached and his head spun and his dick was harder than fucking diamonds as he tried to process what had happened.

Stolas had _never_ missed an oppurtunity to fuck him senseless when Blitzo was the least bit willing. They had banged each other in more places and in more ways over the fast few months at a pace that the imp was pretty sure should have killed one of them at some point. Always the prince took advantage when the moment presented itself, yet when Blitzo had been the one to initiate tonight he had backed off. 

What had changed? Had that little bit he let slip about Loona and his dad really put that much of a wrench in the prince’s libido? Had Stolas finally thrown off those horny rose-tinted glasses and seen Blitzo for the worthless and disposable fucktoy he was--

“A moment, if you please.”

Blitzo stopped in his tracks at the delicate yet imperious tone. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a pale-feathered demon seated at one end of the long dining room table. The single candle in front of her put her fine features in stark relief. Cyan eyes fixed upon him in the same way a hawk might look upon a mouse.

A moment later his heart dropped into his stomach as he recognized her.

“I think,” Stella said icily as she stood up, “it is time you and I had a little chat, imp.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got an update out at a reasonable pace this time, so I'm happy to present the newest chapter! Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos. They're a big part of what keeps my inspiration going for this story, and I'm glad the story continues to please. : )


	8. there's a fire in my brain (and I'm burning up)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blitzo is confronted twice in the space of a week, and Stolas goes seeking answers.

_Oh, fuck me_ , Blitzo cursed himself.

“Well, uh, long time no see,” he greeted. Cold sweat beaded on the back of his neck, and he was unable to keep his voice from pitching up like a little bitch about to get a smack-down from her pimp. 

“Look, if this is about landing half-naked in the middle of your tea party, I’m real sorry about that and you’ve got every right to hate a literal party crasher but also you’ve seriously got to let that go I mean holding onto grudges gives you heart attacks and wrinkles so you’re really just hurting yourself by staying mad _not_ that you have wrinkles or anything because frankly you don’t look a day over five-hundred and if I weren’t in a committed affair right now I’d totally tap that and-- Hrk!”

Manicured claws closed around his throat and cut off his panicked rambling. The white feathers and delicate bones of her talons belied the strength in her grip, for no amount of scrabbling or thrashing could shake her off. She lifted him a few inches off the floor, just high enough to have him suffocate under his own weight for a few moments. 

“That is the unfortunate failing in you imps,” she sighed, almost bored as she strangled him. “You just never remember your place or your manners. So let me remind you in a way that you can understand.” 

Her talons dug in just a little harder until his vision was swimming with spots. “You will not speak unless asked a direct question or given an order. I outrank you in both class and power, and you will show me deference and respect accordingly. If I want to have your innards flambeed and your skin thrown to the hellhounds for a chew toy, no one will bat an eyelash or lift a finger to save you. Have I made myself clear?”

“Crystal,” he wheezed, gripping desperately on her arm and struggling not to pass out. “Yes, yes!”

“Excellent,” Stella trilled as she let him go.

Blitzo landed in a gasping heap on the floor. He heaved himself up onto his hands and knees, not trusting his balance or the bitch to not get handsy with him again. Stella certainly did not seem keen to let him up either, and she placed the heel of her stiletto between his horns.

“I am well aware of Stolas’ dalliances,” she sighed, resting her cheek in one hand. “Even so, there is no love lost between us. Ours was an arranged marriage, and centuries later we can still scarcely tolerate one another. He and I have a long-standing agreement to keep out of one another’s affairs. I do not care what that slut does in the private or who he does it with.

“Scandal, however, is another matter entirely. Reputation is everything here in Hell, imp, from the lowliest sinner to Lucifer himself. Our house’s power over our legions and influence over the other noble families of the Nine Circles depends upon it. What do you imagine it does to our reputation when rumors abound that my husband is whoring himself out to commoners?”

“Well, I-- Ah, fuck fuck fuck!”

“That was rhetorical,” Stella admonished as she pressed her heel ever-so-slightly into his skull. “As I was saying, it undermines not only Stolas’ authority but mine and my daughter’s as well. If we mingle so readily with the riff-raff, then we are no different from them. Our enemies will think that we must share their weakness, that our estate and legions are ripe for the taking. The Thirty-Sixth House could fall to ruin quite literally overnight, all to fuel my husband’s pathetic appetites.”

 _Save me the speech, bitch!_ Blitzo seethed from where he lay prone on the floor. _Fuck your politics, fuck your reputation, and fuck your Gucci’s in particular!_

“All this to say, imp,” she continued, “that should this liaison between you and my husband ever become public knowledge, I will take immense satisfaction in ending it.” She pressed down until his chin was forced against the floor and his neck felt like it would snap. “ _Personally_.”

“Mom,” came a voice from the doorway. “Mom! I think he gets the point without you curb stomping him. Besides, you’ll never get his gut-stains off your shoes.”

In an instant the younger demon was at her mother’s side, tugging lightly at her arm. Her feathers were slightly ruffled and she was dressed in little more than an oversized T-shirt, as if she had just woken up. At least, Blitzo figured it had to be bleariness that drew her mouth tight and narrowed her eyes. On anyone else, the look might have been one of concern.

“Octavia, dear,” Stella cooed, heading whipping around and stepping away from Blitzo. In an instant she was hugging her and gently stroking the feathers of her daughter’s head. “I thought you had gone to bed already. Oh, my chick, did Mommy wake you up?”

“Meh, I wasn’t getting much sleep anyway,” Octavia muttered, returning the gesture half-heartedly. Over Stella’s shoulder, her eyes flicked between Blitzo and the door to the parlor. With no particular subtlety, she mouthed, _“Get out of here!”_

He certainly did not need to be told twice. Struggling to his feet, the imp spared her a stiff nod. 

To her credit, the girl kept her harpy of a mother distracted long enough for Blitzo to stagger out of the mansion and into the limo waiting outside. He fell with a hiss of pain into the back seat, claws fingering lightly over the dark-red necklace of bruises blooming around his throat. He did not look back as the limo took off, half-convinced he would see Stella coming after him to finish the job.

Deal or not, he would blow his own brains out before he set foot near that mansion or any of them again.

* * *

“Wait with the car, Camio,” the prince ordered, tugging slightly at his mauve blazer. “With any luck, I will be returning with our errant imp.”

“Yes, Highness.”

For all his dealings with I.M.P., Stolas had never actually visited the office proper. He stepped into the lobby of the office building, idly noting the dull and pedestrian interior. He paused only to glance over the directory (and to fling the security guard bodily into the wall when the demon had the audacity to ask for some I.D.) before stepping into the elevator. 

Pressing the button for the sixth floor, he leaned slightly against the door. Alone, he allowed his imperious mask to crack. Stolas tapped his talons against the linoleum, and all four of his brows were deeply furrowed. A quick glance at his phone: no new notifications. At least not from the one sinner he was hoping to hear from.

Nearly a week had passed since their little smoke together in his garden. Nearly a week since he had denied himself the temptation of that sweet body and sent Blitzo so abruptly away. 

It had all been part of Lilith’s ingenious plan, to turn the tables and have the imp chasing after _him_ for once. Still Stolas had been left burning alive in his desire. Worse yet was the way Blitzo’s stricken face continued to claw at his gizzard in the days that followed. 

Part of him wanted to claw that look off the imp’s face and from his memory (how dare he look so wounded when he had already wounded Stolas so!). Another wanted to simply kiss him and chase that pain away with pleasure of their own making (his imp, his darling, his treasure).

None of it would galled him quite so badly but for Blitzo’s silence. In spite of Lilith’s advice to refrain from appearing needy, he had left half a dozen messages for the other and texted thrice as many times. All ignored, all unanswered.

Worry as much as anger rolled over in his gut. Worry for what was keeping Blitzo, anger for the other refusing to come to him by the terms of their Deal. The imp owed him an explanation. By the infernal halls of Pandemonium, he would get an honest answer out of Blitzo this time, even if he had to nail the minx down by his little forked tail!

He was fuming by the time the elevator doors opened again. His talons drew furrows in the linoleum, scarcely holding himself back from running into the office. Breathing once, twice through his beak, he carded through the feathers of his brow. 

He was Prince Stolas of the Thirty-Sixth House, Right Hand to the Queen of Hell. He would _not_ go barging in there like a screeching banshee out of the Second Circle. He would walk in as the holder of Blitzo’s contract and soul (as well as holder of quite a bit of I.M.P. stock), and no one would deny him. 

A pity that he had not figured to reckon with the company’s receptionist.

As dedicated to her post as ever, the hellhound did not even look up when he entered the suite and walked right up to the front desk. Something held her glazed-over eyes on the screen in front of her. Exercising his very last ounce of patience, Stolas did her the courtesy of waiting for a good ten seconds for her to acknowledge him. 

When she did not, the pens and other accoutrements on her desk began to shake a little, as if an earthquake were rocking in the foundations below. His talons came down with an audible _thunk_ on the wood as he narrowed his gaze upon her.

“While I can see you are clearly busy,” he rumbled, tail-feathers flicking, “I must request you fetch your superior. _Now_.”

Loona’s gaze rolled up to finally look at him as one might look at a roach they found crawling on the wall.

“Hm.” She sniffed the air once, lips curling a little. “Something smells like expensive-ass cologne and chicken shit. Gonna take a wild guess here and say you’re Blitz’s sugar daddy.”

“Indeed,” he replied, tone dripping with false sweetness. The shaking only increased, and the glass of windows around them cracked audibly. “And I would suggest you watch your tone, madam. The free-reign on manners I give to Blitzo does not extend to his employees. I would hate to have to put a muzzle on that smart mouth.” He leaned forward until they were scarcely inches from one another. “Or maybe I should just cut out your tongue.”

“Only if you want to lose a fucking hand, asshole,” she clipped back, showing off every fang in her snarl.

She really was Blitzo’s daughter, and more like Octavia than he had expected. The uncanny resemblance (and the fact that the imp would never speak to him again if he actually laid a hand on her) was all that held him from clawing her heart out through her spleen and eating it. Before he could say more, however, one of the office doors opened. 

“Hey, hey! What’ve I said about roughhousing when I’m taking my _siesta_ \--”

Stolas’ head whipped in the direction of the speaker, and all at once the rumbling ceased. He immediately stood away from the desk. Immediately his heart was hammering in his chest to see Blitzo standing in the doorway. Their eyes met across the room, mutually stunned into silence. 

A silence that lasted all of two seconds before the imp was making an angry beeline towards him.

“First of all: the fuck are you doing here?” he shrilled, arms flailing and jabbing a finger in Stolas’ direction. “And second, the fuck are you doing harassing my employees? No one fucks around with them except me! And fucking third--”

Whatever the last obscenity the imp might have screamed at him was interrupted as Stolas picked him up. Two quick strides brought them back into Blitzo’s office, and he slammed the door behind them with a hard kick. Muffled shouts of concern could be heard beyond, no doubt his employees wondering at the commotion.

“Let me down!” the imp demanded, yelping when Stolas let him drop in an unceremonious heap. He was on his feet in an instant, eyes burning and fists shaking. “And this my office, my business, so you can turn that feathery ass right around and get out!”

“Oh no, my dear Blitzy,” the prince growled, turning the lock and his feathers ruffling slightly. “I am quite through being ignored, and ours is a conversation long overdue.” He took hold of the imp’s wrists and pushed him backwards. “It is time you and I had a little talk.”

“Oh, that’s real rich coming from you,” Blitzo sneered even as his back hit the edge of his desk. “I think we’ve both said plenty, considering you were in such a big hurry to chase me out after our last heart-to-heart.”

Stolas had the good grace to look chagrined at that, but the imp’s words still stung at his pride.

“I called you the next morning as I promised I would, and every day since. So if you are angry for the distance between us, you have only yourself to blame.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it! What was I supposed to think after that? For weeks you can’t keep your horny hands to yourself for five seconds when I’m around, and then one night you’re suddenly a fucking gentleman? And now you’re breaking down my office door and harassing my employees?” Blitzo ripped his hands free and covered his face to muffle a frustrated scream. “You’re giving me whiplash with this shit, Stolas, and I’m done with it!”

The prince could see him shaking with scarcely repressed emotions, could feel it. The anger cooled somewhat in his chest, a guilt taking its place that he would never voice. In the imp’s place, he would have likely felt the same way. Hellfire, he had felt the same himself over the past week. Oh, how confused and hurt it all must have left his poor Blitzy feeling…

“Let me soothe it then, darling,” Stolas said softly, one hand coming up to tenderly stroke a horn. “Only speak to me and let me tend to the aches of your heart as I tend to your flesh. If I have truly hurt you so, then allow me to make amends and fix this.”

“I’m… I’m too tired to get into this with you right now,” the imp replied wearily even as he leaned ever so slightly into the touch. “I’ve told you before: stop trying to pick my brain. Our deal is that I fuck you, and you keep the money flowing. So stop acting like there’s anything more to it than that.” 

His voice dropped, scarcely above a breath and sounding so, so defeated. Stolas did not care for the sound of it, not at all. "Stop acting like you actually care..."

“Now you truly are being a fool,” Stolas rumbled, bending forward until his face was pressed into Blitzo’s temple. “Subtlety has never been my strong suit, Blitzy, and even a blind man could see my intentions clearly enough. Fine, then. If my words alone cannot convince you…” He took hold of the imp’s hips, thumbs circling over the ridges beneath as he grinded his hips against him. His beak slanted over those lips in a quick but searing kiss. “Then I will _show_ you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a bit more difficulty getting this chapter out, but here we are at last! Next one should be a little easier, I am hoping. Thank you for your patience!


	9. Update Status

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Update on Status of Fic

Hey all, it has been a hot minute since I updated this fic. Between work, my social life, my other hobbies, and other fics I have been working on, I have not had a lot of time or desire to write for this one.

Let me be clear: that does not mean I am abandoning or putting this fic on hiatus. Abandoning would mean I no longer wish to work on it and putting it on hiatus would mean I have nothing planned as far as the plot is concerned, and neither of those things are true. However, this fic holds a unique position for me in that I write it as the mood strikes me, and that particular mood has not struck me lately.

It is even harder to find that mood when several of the comments I am getting lately are something to the effect of "please update" or "when are you going to update" or "is this fic abandoned", etc etc. So, let me say, in no uncertain terms, that this fic for me is strictly something I do for fun and in my own spare time. I am not a content creator who does this for a career, nor am I a machine who lives solely to put out fan content for you to consume. Treating me and this fic in that way is extremely discouraging and takes away what enthusiasm I have for this fic. Leaving comments like this does not make me put out a new chapter sooner, and they will not be acknowledged beyond this announcement.

That being said, the majority of my commenters are very polite and always have nice things to say about this fic, and I appreciate your encouragement and interest. Getting to have fun like this with you is such a big part of what drives me for this fic. I love writing these asshole demons and for this fandom, and it has been fun to see the updates from Vivzie and the show creators on Instagram and the like. So thank you for your continued patience, and with a little luck I will have a new chapter to you soon.

**TL;DR: If you are someone who only leaves comment of "plz update" on this fic, kindly leave and don't come back until you learn some manners. : )**


	10. though I'd die to know you love me (I'm all alone)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stolas makes a confession or two, and Blitzo finds it harder than ever not to break.

As shitty weeks went in Hell, this had been one of the shittier ones for Blitzo.

His life lately was starting to read like the bastard offspring of an office sitcom and a porno. Not even a good porno. More like one of those amateur videos taken with a shitty flip phone camera in a poorly lit back alley with some poor unsuspecting slut giving some Dumbass McNobody a blowjob.

He was tired. Tired of dealing with constantly bitching employees, tired of sordid affairs with demon princes, tired of constantly being threatened by the psychopathic spouses and homicidal brats of said princes, and just tired of everything in general. 

That was part of the reason for his radio silence. The other part was that he was still pretty fucking _hurt_ about the way Stolas had brushed him off last time, and wouldn’t it serve the leggy bastard right to get the same in return? As much of a petty bitch that might have made Blitzo, he felt like he had more than earned the right to be a petty bitch where Stolas was concerned.

The prince’s barging in did jack shit to warm Blitzo up to him. He was used to the other manhandling him when they were at Stolas’ estate, but it was another thing entirely to be scooped up and made off with like a damsel in one of those old-timey Westerns. (He was probably about to get spanked silly like one, too.) Blitzo knew he was a joke to Stolas, but the prince could shove it right up his birdhole if he thought he could make Blitzo look like a joke in front of his own employees. He was about to tell Stolas as much when-- when--

Then Stolas was kissing him and every angry and petty thing he had been about to say got punted right out the fucking window.

His hands buried themselves in Stolas’ shirt front, yanking the other forward. In the same instance the prince had grabbed hold of his horns and pulled the imp towards him. Blitzo’s teeth and Stolas’ beak _clacked_ hard together, and the motion set their hips grinding hard against one another’s. The imp bared his teeth in a moan, only to part them against as the prince pressed in for another kiss.

Stolas rumbled softly into his mouth as he pushed the imp, pressing against him until Blitzo was forced to lay sprawled on the desk. Bringing one knee up, the prince brushed it against Blitzo’s crotch. Meanwhile one hand was splayed across the imp’s belly to pin him in place as his other hand began to deftly undo the buttons of his shirt front.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he gasped, pulling back all flustered and breathless. Stolas moved his head down nip along Blitzo’s jaw, then at his neck. “What I dream of every waking and dreaming moment we are apart?”

Letting his head fall back and bucking his hips against Stolas was the imp’s heartfelt answer.

“I would have you in every conceivable way -- in my bed, at my side, in my life. Courting you, bedding you, _fucking_ you until you can think of nothing but _me_.” 

Stolas bit hard at the place where his throat met his chest. Talons raked over the skin above Blitzo’s heart, talons that could have easily torn the beating thing right out of his ribs. And why did that thought make Blitzo so raging hard?

“I would devour you, flesh and soul. I would open you up and eat you alive from the inside, just to see the things you hide from me. Look at me.” Stolas’ hands came up to cradle either side of the imp’s head. When Blitzo did not obey, those claws dug into his skull, just a little. “ _Look_ at me.”

Blitzo opened his eyes and met the prince’s gaze, panting slightly. Those four eyes bore into him, _through_ him, and the imp shivered. There was no looking into that gaze, but there was no looking away from it, either.

“You are _mine_ . Do you understand me?” With every word, hot breath blew into the imp’s face. “Not merely your body and your soul, but _everything_ that is the sum of you. Your loves and your fears and your dreams. These things too are mine.” 

“Mine to break and mine to mark.” One clawed thumb sliced a thin line across Blitzo’s cheek until blood beaded from the cut. While it stung more than it hurt, the imp’s breath still hitched in his chest. 

“Mine to mend and mine to protect.” Stolas’ tongue slipped out to swipe at the cut. The sudden warmth and the easing of the prince’s grip that followed, of all things, was what made Blitzo’s heart break. “Mind to cherish. So will you not let me, Blitzy? Will you not let me in at last?”

How was he even supposed to answer that? Because what Stolas was asking -- What he was confessing to? What he was offering? -- was something he could never reciprocate. Or maybe it just because he was not _quite_ a big enough idiot to believe anyone in Hell could want him in that way. 

Because Blitzo had never been good enough for anyone, and why should now be any different?

So, the imp did not answer. Instead he snapped his legs up until his thighs were caught around Stolas’ hips. Squeezing tight, Blitzo used the prince’s moment of surprise to flip both of them over. He felt the wind leave Stolas’ chest as his back collided with the desk, knocking mugs and paperwork to the floor.

“Y’know something?” Blitzo laid his chin against Stolas’ sternum, smirking at the dazed and breathless expression. “You’re chattier than a fucking parakeet on crack, but your voice ain’t half bad to hear now and again. Especially when you’re screamin’ my name.” He hooked his claws on the inside of the prince’s trousers. “How about we give you something to _really_ scream about?”

The narrowing of Stolas’ eyes and the shuddering of feathers against his cheek was the only answer he needed. Blitzo yanked down, pulling the trousers down to Stolas’ ankles in one smooth motion (no small feat considering how leggy the leggy bastard was). As expected, the prince wore no underwear and the feathers around his folds were sopping.

“Yep, just as needy of a slut as ever,” the imp chuckled, spreading those folds wide with two fingers and flicking at his little clit with another. He kneeled on the floor and scooted in until Stolas’ legs were draped over his shoulder and the base of his horns were butted against the demon’s hips. 

“As I said, Blitzy,” Stolas moaned, head falling back and locking his legs behind Blitzo’s back in a silent plea, “the things you do to me…”  
  
“And about to do a hell of a lot more,” Blitzo purred before pulling his hand away and leaning down. He took Stolas’ into his mouth and sucked, drawing a moan from the prince even as he drew his clit in. Using the tip of his tongue, the imp batted the little pearl back and forth.

“You absolutely _sinful_ little thing-- Ah!”

He tasted like brimstone and the tears of sinners, and a part of Blitzo fancied he could get used to the taste. The way Stolas’ thighs quivered around his head, the way his folds clenched around Blitzo’s fingers and tongue, was something he could _definitely_ get used to. And hearing Stolas moan and stutter his name and the praise that accompanied as Blitzo bobbed his head back and forth was starting to become as essential to him as breathing.

“Blitzy, Blitzy-- Yes, right there-- Oh, I’m going to--” Impatient talons grabbed him by the horns and shoved his face against those slick folds until Blitzo could hardly breathe, Stolas bending nearly in half over him. Then those thighs were clenching like a vice around his head and--

Wetness coated his lips as Stolas keened above him. The prince’s whole body was spasming around him, and there was nothing Blitzo could do but kneel there and take it all in. Certainly not the worst way to be, but the aching hard-on in his pants reminded the imp that he was far from done with the prince.

As Stolas slowly came down from his high, still breathless, he crooked a finger at the imp and motioned towards himself. Blitzo stood as he was directed, growling slightly as the prince tilted his chin up and bent to kiss him again. Stolas trailed a leg along the back of his thigh, another wordless order. 

Yet when Blitzo moved to undo his belt, Stolas caught his wrist in his hand and stopped him. The prince laughed softly as he nuzzled between Blitzo’s horns.

“No no, Blitzy,” he chided gently. “We will follow my lead from here. Turn around for me now.”

“Do you wanna get dicked or not?” the imp grumbled, although he still turned around.

“Later, perhaps.” Stolas, still sitting on the desk behind, slid a hand down his front, stroking Blitzo’s dick over his pants’ front. “Fear not. I think you will like what I have in mind.”

The imp sprung free the moment Stolas slid his pants and boxers down. Hissing under his breath, Blitzo thrust against the palm that stroked him once, twice. Stolas brought an arm around his waist and pulled him up and onto the desk with ease. He kept that arm around his middle as he pushed Blitzo’s legs apart so that the imp straddled his thighs.

“Not that I’m exactly complaining,” Blitzo sighed, letting his head fall back against Stolas’ shoulder as the prince began to jerk him off again, “but I’d still rather be gettin’ my dick wet with your-- Holy shit!”

“Hm?” Two fingers and a thumb worked the base of his dick as two others slipped in and out of his hole. “Were you saying something?”

The imp glanced down blearily between their legs, bucking his hips a little. “H-How the actual fuck are you managing to do that with only one hand?”

“Benefits of zygodactyl digits, Blitzy,” the prince explained, flexing the claws of the hand that was still splayed over the imp’s belly. “And a few centuries of practice never hurt anyone~”

“Don’t-- Oh, fuck, right there-- Don’t think for a _minute_ I’m not still fuckin’ pissed at you-- Hngh!”

“I would not dream of it,” Stolas rasped against his ear. "Oh, you are _glorious_ like this-- Neither am I letting this go. I am not giving up on you just yet, Blitzy."

“Th-Think you can just win me over with a combo handjob-fingerblasting? I ain’t that easy-- Oh, _fuck_...”

“I do believe I can, actually,” Stolas hissed, pulling the imp flush against him. “Lean into me, darling, let me feel you…”

As the sun set over the horizon, making the office fairly bleed with red light, the imp let the prince feel him indeed, then and for many hours after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies to all of you for an update long overdue! I am currently in between projects, so I finally had some time and energy to write another chapter. Thank you for your continued patience, and I hope the fic continues to please. c:


	11. if you feeling like you need a little bit of company (you met me at the perfect time)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honesty does not come easily to Blitzo, but even he can manage it once in a blue moon.

_“Mammon, buddy chum pal friend o’ mine, let’s talk this out--”_

_“C’mon, don’t make this any harder on yourself than it needs to be. Ain’t nothing personal, it’s just business.”_

_“Look, if this about setting the stage on fire or hogging the carousel or accidentally yeeting that brat into the next ring--”_

_“This ain’t about your laundry list of fuck-ups, Blitzo. Wouldn’t really care if you were blowin’ old Lucy’s ass on_ 666 News _for all Hell to see. Shit, even bad publicity would be something at this point, if it brought in the crowds The facts of the matter are you’re losing me more money than you’re bringing in.”_

_“Just give me another week! Fuck, just another night!”_

_“You just don’t have that ‘it’ factor, dollface, and if you don’t have it now you ain’t ever going to. Find a different line of work because the stage just ain’t for you. I’m doing you a favor, really.”_

_“If by ‘it’ you mean I don’t bounce on your dick like that bitch-ass clown, then yeah, I guess I don’t have it!”_

_“Maybe if you did you’d finally be good for something, you little slut! And at least Fizzy knows when to shut fuck up when it’s good for him!”_

_“Well I’m sorry we can’t all be world-class spineless sellout jesters_ or _the talentless bootleggging dipshit hacks who call themselves their managers and who wouldn’t know an original idea if it got blown out their ass with a stick of dynamite!”_

_“Oh, and you’re so much better than the rest of us, dollface? Last I checked, you’re still living in a shitty rathole of an apartment up in Pride, broke and unloved and alone like the fucking no-talent clown that you are.”_

_“Fuck this shit, fuck this rancid theme park, and especially fuck yourself, bossman! You can’t fire me because I quit! Consider this my goddamned resignation notice!”_

_“Fine by me! And while you’re at it, dollface, why don’t you do us all a favor and eat some lead? Because you’re sure as hell no good to anyone alive!”_

* * *

“Blitzy, darling, you know I like it rough, but in this instance can you not be a touch more gentle?”

“And can you maybe shut the fuck up for once? Now bend that little feathered ass back over.”

“Oh, what a cute and filthy little mouth you have-- Ow, not the feathers!”

“Get on your knees, I can’t reach from here. Why the _fuck_ are you so leggy, anyway? God trying to compensate for something when He made you?”

“I am absolute _perfection_ from beak to talon, and do not even bother denying it. I can feel you shaking, Blitzy~”

“Because you won’t stay still, bitch! And head down, I can’t see!”

From a distance, the prince and the imp certainly made for an… _interesting_ scene. Stolas was currently kneeling behind a rack of sheer corsets that was doing absolutely nothing to conceal his tall and lanky form. Blitzo was having about as much success hiding where he sat straddling the prince’s upper back. Neither seemed to realize they could both be plainly seen _and_ heard.

“So… do think we should say something?” Octavia said, casting a glance at the hellhound.

“Naw,” Loona drawled. She did not even look up from where she was rifling through the severed hands bin. “First rule of engagement with dorks: you don’t.”

“That’s never stopped them before…” Octavia did not argue the point further, however. She held up a red choker studded in silver spikes to the hellhound. “Here, try this one on. You look badass in crimson, and it kinda matches your eyes.”

“Bitch, I look badass in _anything_ ,” Loona replied with a smirk, snatching it and chucking her other collar off.

“Yeah, fuck you, too,” the princess snorted. For herself she had picked a knitted beanie colored cerise-and-black with red, sparkling patches of stars. Checking herself over one last time in the mirror, she grabbed her phone and gestured at the other. “C’mere and get in on this!”

Teeth bared and middle fingers up, the two leaned back to back as they took a selfie together in the mirror.

“Hashtag BadBitches!” they chimed in unison.

“Well, they seem to be getting on well enough,” Stolas murmured. Having given up on being a footrest for the imp, he simply stood now, holding the imp up so Blitzo might have a better view.

“Yeah, I have to admit to that,” Blitzo conceded, heading nodding and legs dangling. “And they only tried to kill each other, what, twice?”

“Now, the second time was clearly an accident. How was my little owlet to know pushing your Loona into the street during rush hour would nearly get her run over? That lorry came quite out of nowhere.” He gently set the imp back down and shrugged. “And what is an attempted murder or three between bosom friends-in-the-making?”

“Hey, don’t talk about my kid’s bosoms,” Blitzo warned, cocking his hips and still watching the two girls posing in the mirror.

“My point being,” Stolas continued, resting a hand on his shoulder, “I believe we can leave them unchaperoned for a few minutes. Cameo and the rest will keep an eye on the perimeter while you and I go for a little stroll down the way.”

“I am _not_ fucking you in the dumpster again, Stolas.”

“I am quite over that kink, thank-you-very-much,” the prince grumbled peevishly, narrowing his eyes at the other. “And that is hardly what I had in mind. I only thought it might be nice to take a walk at sunset with you. The light down this avenue during the evening is stunning, and I thought that we might, well… _talk_.”

“... You know on second thought, maybe I’m being too judgy about the dumpster.”

“Oh, hush,” Stolas said, taking the imp by the shoulders and pushing him out the front door of _Stylish Occult_. “We will only be gone a short spell.”

Much as Blitzo hated to admit it, Stolas was right a second time as they emerged on the street. Above them, the green skies were going all teal-and-pine with the coming night. The setting sun cast long, stark shadows along the sidewalk, and the small spaces of light between made the sidewalks glitter. Pretty views was one of the few things the Greed Ring had going for it, in the imp’s opinion, and it had pretty views in spades.

“I’m pretty sure I made my position on chit-chat pretty clear last time we ‘talked,’” Blitzo sighed even as he allowed the prince to take his hand.

“And I believe I made myself clear on the position of giving up on that front, darling,” Stolas replied as he laced their fingers together. “You never did tell me why you were quiet for so long last time.”

Blitzo said nothing at first, merely taking a sudden interest in the sidewalk passing under their feet. All of a sudden meeting the prince’s gaze or that of the people around them seemed just a bit too much. 

He stared pointedly at the imp. “I am waiting, Blitzy.”

“... Can we take this somewhere a little more private?” the imp asked quietly.

“You need only ever ask,” Stolas replied softly.

A few minutes saw the pair of them in a little greenspace around the corner from the store. Well-trimmed hedges concealed them from view of the street, and the grass was plush and soft underfoot. 

Soft lamplight from overhead haloed a bench at the back. It was there that Stolas gestured for Blitzo to sit. The imp let go of the prince’s hand to flop gracelessly down. He still would not meet Stolas’ gaze when the other sat down beside him, and it was several minutes before he could find the words to speak. Stolas, for once, did not press him.

“That night… When you sent me home...”

“Ah, yes,” Stolas replied, and it gratified the imp somewhat to hear the shame in his voice. “Yes, that night.” He brought a hand to the back of his head and glanced up at the sky. “Blitz, I--”

“You want me to talk or what?” Blitzo said pointedly. “Then shut up and listen, because I’m only going to say this one time.”

Stolas fell silent.

“I… That shit hurt, okay? I opened up about myself for once, the fucking mood was mutual for once, and you just… Sent me packing like some polite chick trying to let her ugly prom date down easy.”

The prince kept silent, but he reached out to lay a hand over Blitzo’s own. Blitzo let him even as he continued.

“This might come as a shock, but… I’m not exactly the most likeable guy in Hell. I put up a brave face about it, act like hot shit, but a part of me knows it, deep down. I know that, Loona and Moxxie and Millie know that. Shit, even my dad knew, may he rest in fucking pieces, asshole that he was. No one’s ever really liked me for me, and God knows it’s not for lack of trying on my end of things. Except maybe my sisters, and they’re not around anymore. ” 

It took a considerable effort for Stolas not to interject, but he knew the other had not finished speaking his peace.

“So if people stick around, it’s usually because I’ve got something they want. Money, offing someone for them, a handjob, that kind of thing. Even with you at first, I know you just saw me as a cute ass you wanted a piece of.

“But then… You started wanting more than that, or it seemed like you did, anyway. Suddenly it wasn’t just us fucking anymore. It was you wanting to talk _and_ fuck, and I couldn’t figure out _why_ . I didn’t _have_ anything you could possibly want beside maybe my dick and can-do-attitude for taking out a bitch. Then you started saying all that weird shit about wanting to know what’s going on in my head and I just…”

Sighing, the imp drew his knees up to his chest and buried his face against them. The prince squeezed his hand, trying to take in what the other was saying. He was struggling to find the words to reply when Blitzp spoke up once more.

“I’m… I’m scared, Stolas. I’m scared and confused as shit. _You_ scare me. No one’s ever wanted me that way. I can’t… I can’t tell if this is real shit or if you’re just playing the long con with me. 

“I’m scared this is all going to turn out to be a big fucking joke for you, and I’m going to have be the one to pick up the pieces after. Or worse, you’re going to wake up and get a real good look at me one day and see me for the piece of shit that I am and leave like everyone else...”

 _And I’m going to miss the shit out of you when you do._ Blitzo scrubbed his face roughly against his knees, unsuccessfully trying to scrub the tear away. Fuck, why couldn’t he stop crying?

“... May I speak now?” Stolas asked softly.

Blitzo nodded stiffly, not looking up, noting only distantly that the prince was still holding his hand.

“It is true you have your… flaws,” the prince began, “but you are hardly the only one between us with them. This is Hell, after all.” He scooted closer to the imp on the bench. “More the point, you are not so flawed that I find your company a troublesome thing. I would not got to the pangs that I do if it were so.

“That night in the gardens…” He turned his face up to the darkening sky. “I confess I was following the advice of a friend in sending you away. It took every ounce of self-control not to press you into those blankets and make love to you all evening long as I wished. My appetites are voracious by most anyone standards, and I had hoped by spending the evening talking and then giving you some time and space away that you might… That might think better of me.”

The imp glanced up at him then, wiping his cheek along one sleeve.

“So you’re telling me you were trying to get me to _want_ you to bone me by _not_ boning me?” he asked, more than a little disbelieving.

“I would hardly put it like that,” Stolas groused, the feathers at cheeks darkening somewhat as he flushed. “Nor were my intentions so base.” He turned his head and curled his form slightly over the imp’s own. His arm came to wrap around Blitzo’s shoulder, talons grazing gently over the hollow of the imp’s throat. Stolas sighed and kissed between Blitzo’s horns.

“I care for you, Blitzy, truly I do,” he whispered. “More than I have cared for anyone in this way. It is never my intention to hurt you or to make you doubt your worth to me, though I have clearly done a fine job of both. For that, I am… sorry.”

Blitzo laughed shakily at that.

“You’re a fucking idiot and a leggy bastard,” Blitzo rumbled, even as a wan smile twitched on his lips, “but I think I like that about you. Sometimes.”

“Hm,” Stolas hummed, pulling the imp closer until the other sat on his lap. “I believe I can live with that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New episode, new inspiration for the fic! I got some tender feelings out of the last episode, so have some tender feelings for this chapter. : ) As always, I hope it pleases!


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